The Queen's War
by DrkVrtx
Summary: She rises from the grave after twenty-five long years, her heart consumed with hatred. There are no thoughts in her mind but revenge, no desires in her heart but to see blood upon her hands. She wages her war, and she will suffer no one to stand before her in defiance. She is Medusa, Queen of the Underworld, and nothing will stop her. AU, post-NES Kid Ic.
1. Chapter 1

**The Queen's War**

Swaths of Underworld foes darkened the sky, cutting across the once peaceful expanse. They swept past the clouds, swinging through sharp angles as their seemingly never-ending torrent turned and headed directly down towards civilization below, fanning out wide as it reached it. Waves of twisted creatures bent singly upon destruction poured over the high walls of the city.

A lone figure trailing glittering gold light flashed through the sky.

The angel lifted its weapon as a Monoeye made directly for him, with a deft but vicious strike sweeping it out of the air. Another made for him, spinning as the surface of its lone, bulbous eye glowing ominously. The angel shifted the grip of his hand upon the hilt of the First Blade, its length swelling with pink light as he held it in the fashion of a firearm.

His aim proved true though he lanced through the air at great speed, darting about as the Underworld tried to claim his life. Light pulsed along the length of the weapon and a bulb of energy formed quickly at its tip, a moment later expelled and sent blazing forward.

The angel blasted through the torn, scorched remains of the creature, his path of flight carrying him towards a small collection of rocks that stood tall and proud against the side of the mountain. The Underworld swept by, too numerous for him to even consider going up against. They ignored his presence, but there was a much greater threat than they present.

He could feel its malevolent aura, and it sent a chill knifing through him as his path of flight brought him through a tight circle above the peak of one of the outlying rocks before landing atop it. His wings, golden and grand, were afforded a brief respite.

"Lady Palutena, there are too many!" he despaired even as he tracked the path of a Keron and took careful aim.

"Fear not, Pit. The battle of the skies is not ours; we must turn our attentions to that city. They are being overrun".

Pit nodded at the Goddess' yet unspoken command, the barrel of the First Blade smoking as he lowered it. In the corner of his sharp and observant eyes, Pit saw a spark of lightning slice through the sky. He breathed deeply and unfurled his golden wings.

"Guide me, Lady Palutena", he said, picking up his feet and running towards the edge of the rock's peak.

"Right", the Goddess said. "We take our fight to the ground, Pit!"

Pit leapt into the air and his wings burst into life, each of their beats leaving a trail of golden dust in their wake.

"The Power of Flight will not last for much longer", the Goddess warned him. "I must get you to the city swiftly".

Pit nodded his understanding as he shot forwards at a considerable pace, the Goddess directing his movement into a shallow arc that would angle him directly towards the heart of the city upon his descent. He held the First Blade away at his side as the Forces of Nature swept past him, smashing into the torrent of the Underworld. A streak of lightning flashed by, and Pit raised his lips very briefly into a smile as he felt the touch of fingertips briefly graze the skin of his arm.

She moved too quickly – far too quickly – for the human eye to comprehend, but Pit knew her well enough and saw better than his close kin of Man. She returned his smile and gave a playful gesture before sharply altering her trajectory and slicing into the unrelenting stream of Underworld creatures.

Pit broke through the clouds as he reached the peak of his arc, lifting his weapon to the ready as a number of Gyrazers sought to follow and fell him from the sky.

Suddenly, he felt the coldest and sharpest of chills run along the path of his spine, gripping his body in a violent tremble. The Underworld creatures broke away – strangely, re-directing their angle of flight and sinking back below the clouds. He felt the Goddess pull him up short as the sky was warped around them.

Darkness, stemming it seemed from below the clouds, swept upwards through them and claimed all it settled upon in a swift moment. Shades of bruise-purple were laced across the darkening sky, poison upon the air as the clouds were drawn forwards, beginning to twist around themselves.. Dark tendrils rose up into the air, swaying like serpents as further black strands lay upon and twisted around them. The tendrils thickened quickly and soon took on the more recognizable form of arms, hands forming at their ends and fingers upon theirs. They snatched blindly through the air, reaching for him, but his Goddess held him back at a safe distance.

Thick clouds were pushed aside as a body, pale and naked, lifted itself through them. Its large form uncoiled as thick strands of shadow encircled it, flitting along the surface of its skin. The sensuous groan of a woman hummed through the air as the pale body arched its painted back. Stark, black lines twisted and curled upon themselves, seeming to be blessed with a mocking imitation of life as they shifted along the planes of the feminine form.

Shadows coalesced at its neck, solidifying into a head heavy with long locks of dark hair lifted high and stirred by an ethereal win. Among those locks, snakes swayed and curled their slender, dark green forms, forked tongues tasting the air.

The woman lifted her face and spread her arms as darkness wrapped around her body, clothing her. She turned as her nakedness was hidden, and Pit saw the lone orange snake that swayed above her brow gazing unblinkingly at him.

"Pit", she said as she faced him. The clouds fled in her wake as she parted full, pale lips and breathed his name. Her voice possessed its own melody, low and sensual, creeping uncomfortably along the angel's skin.

"I dreamt of you", she told him.

"Medusa", Pit said fiercely, eyes narrowed in righteous anger as he brandished the First Blade. "I hope you've enjoyed your moment of freedom".

"You speak boldly", Medusa said, the snakes atop her head hissing furiously at the angel. "Your bravado amuses me; however, it matters little".

"I do not speak mere words, Medusa", Pit told her. "In the name of the Goddess of Light, I will bring about your end once more!"

Medusa's eyes flashed with hatred and her lips curled into a snarl. Her voice ripped through the sky when she spoke.

"My thoughts were only for you, Pit, as I dwelt in the incarceration of death. I yearned to close my fingers about your throat, to tear your heart still beating from your chest. I will slay you, and then I will come for your _wretched_ Goddess".

"Careful, Pit", Palutena's measured voice warned him as the angel bristled at Medusa's words and lifted his weapon.

"Her poisonous tongue will not utter another word", Pit promised his Goddess, but she held him back.

"This is not Medusa in truth", Palutena explained to him. "It is merely an avatar, a projection of herself that – "

"You are wrong, Palutena", Medusa hissed, lifting her hands through the sky and pointing hooked fingers in Pit's direction. "The wrath of the Elders means little to me now. I have come too far".

Pit felt the surprise of his Goddess pulse through his body like a shock of electricity, and then her worried voice filled his hearing as she pulled him into motion.

"I need to get you out of here, now".

Medusa's hiss melted together with that of her snakes' as her curled fingers suddenly shot forwards, lengthening far beyond their natural means and becoming thick, twisting tendrils of darkness that carved through the sky towards Pit. Palutena manoeuvred him through their onslaught as he raised the First Blade and sent pulses of energy lancing up towards Medusa's face. They fizzled out harmlessly long before they reached their intended target.

Medusa's eyes flashed white as her greyish pupils contracted and narrowed. Pit turned through the air as white light punched through the sky, slicing through the clouds and severing them in two. Palutena pulled him aside as an elongated shadow lanced towards him. He flipped through the air, alighting upon the dark tendril as it flew past and beyond him, charging towards the face of the cursed Goddess with blade in hand.

"Pit, the Power of Flight is almost at an end!" Palutena warned him. Pit nodded wordlessly, with slight reluctance turning and leaping away from Medusa. Lightning arced through the sky before him, intercepting the attack of another malevolent shadow. Pit's wings folded along his back and trailed sparkling lines of gold as he dived towards the ground.

"I have waited for too long", Medusa's voice boomed through the sky, seething with rage. "You will not flee from me!"

Pit turned his head sharply as he heard a familiar voice yelp painfully, worry spreading quickly across his features. The spark of lightning that had criss-crossed the sky, tearing through waves of Underworld creatures suddenly softened into the shape of a young woman flailing through the air in an uncontrolled, wild descent.

"Phosphora!"

"Pit", Palutena cried, "look out!"

Medusa loomed above him, her eyes. The snakes' fangs glittered in the darkened sky, dripping poison.

Pit panicked as a flurry of shadows lanced towards him, and Palutena barely navigated him through them. He quickly lost sight of Phosphora, the commander of the Forces of Nature and his closest friend. He could only see the cursed Goddess as she pressed her attack and pushed Palutena's ability to manoeuvre him through the skies to its limit. He lifted the First Blade in vain, watching his shots consumed hungrily by the dark tendrils chasing him.

Suddenly, they were all around him, a cage from which he saw no escape. His Goddess cried out, and his own heart froze cold as he heard real fear in her voice. It was a sound he had never heard from her before.

She was a Goddess, a rock upon which her followers could stand firm when their own lives were rocked by the crashing waves of turmoil and trails. Her fear shot through him, and turned his veins to ice. He looked up, the First Blade hanging uselessly at his side.

The shadow knifed through his shoulder.

Pit heard three shouts: the distant yet familiar voice of Phosphora, slicing across the sky as she did when on the attack; the cry of his Goddess ever so clear and potent within his mind, and then his own, drawn from his lips by cruel pain.

Medusa remained silent. Her mercilessness spoke volumes in her stead.

The shadows wrapped themselves around his throat and torso, and his struggles were quelled as tendrils of ethereal, weightless darkness punched through his other shoulder and then his legs. Pit's strangled cry rent the air. Dimly, very dimly, he was aware of Palutena speaking.

She was coming for him, he could feel it. And then, he could see it.

High above, the dark skies were split by a jagged line of golden-white illumination, a rift that slowly began to widen as the will of the Goddess pulled apart the barrier that separated worlds.

Medusa's dark tendrils began to draw him upwards like the spindly legs of a spider about its trapped, trembling prey. They brought him before her face, where she gazed at him with narrowed, white-hot eyes and pale lips curled into a hateful snarl. The snakes atop her head swept low as she glared at him, swaying before the broken angel as though surveying his worth as their prey. They scattered when she opened her lips and spoke.

"I have waited for twenty-five years, Pit", Medusa told him. "I should make you suffer in kind. But I am impatient".

"I would not succumb to you", Pit croaked, the tendrils tight about his neck and growing tighter still as he spoke in plain defiance.

"You are an insolent, _pathetic_ creature", Medusa condemned him. Her eyes flashed with terrible rage as a single, thick shadow rose up into Pit's field of vision.

Palutena was close. He could feel her approach, and hear the shriek of the wind as she rushed to reach him.

The sky flashed with the anger of Phosphora, forked tongues of lightning worrying Medusa's cursed crown. He felt the faintest tingle of electricity and heard the fury of her attack upon the walls of his cage.

Help was close, but Pit lifted his eyes as death drew itself tall before him.

The shadow shot forward at the wordless command of its mistress – Phosphora's assault broke through the dark cage at last, and a mere moment later a streak of green light lanced between the Goddess of Darkness and her prey.

Skyworld's door began to close, the golden edges pushed together by invisible hands, and the streak of green light vanished between the closing gaps.

Medusa lifted her face and graced the diminishing rift silently, her eyes oddly calm.

Phosphora charged forwards with a cry of battle upon her lips, but something held and then pulled her back at the last moment, a benevolent power far greater than her own.

The Forces of Nature began their retreat, falling away before the mass of Underworld creatures that surged up from the skies below. Medusa turned her eyes away from the rift as it finally disappeared into non-existence. Her own form began to waver, disintegrating into wisps of shadow as she departed the arena of battle.

**xXx**

Palutena knelt amongst the grass and sweetly scented flowers, the head of her treasured angel resting peaceably in her lap. His eyes were frozen open in death. Beneath his body, the perfect blades of grass were stained crimson. His life, stark and vivid, was splashed across the Goddess' dress.

Palutena did not speak as she gently stroked Pit's cool cheek with the back of her fingers. She did not allow tears to splash his skin. She knelt in silence, and the garden dared not breathe or stir. If she had lifted her eyes, she would have seen the multitude of angels who had gathered in the air around the floating platform, a ring of mournful sadness about her.

Her head hung over him, casting his face into shadow. His lips were parted in shock, but she couldn't bring herself to touch them, to preserve the angel's dignity in death. She could almost hear the faint whisper of her name upon his lips, and see the sparkle that brought his eyes to life. She pushed her fingers slowly up into his thick, tousled hair, bringing her palm to rest upon his cheek. The movement upset the golden laurel crown atop his head, and it fell silently to the ground.

She almost begged, then. Almost…but she knew it was futile. The wound at his chest had torn him open, and his eyes were empty not only in death. Breathing softly, she lowered her brow to his, pressing her eyelids shut. She remained still for a long moment, eventually moving to carefully lower the lids of his eyes with her fingertips. She touched her lips softly to each of his eyes before touching them to his brow.

"I am sorry, Pit".

Darkness formed an impenetrable wall around the platform, and an all too familiar voice reached her ear. "His death is of your doing".

At the corners of her vision, Palutena glimpsed death creeping towards her. The vibrant green of the natural carpet upon which she knelt began to fade, poisoned and corrupted. Life shrivelled and withered around her.

The crunch of brittle stalks of grass graced her ears, trodden underfoot by the being that had brought about the wicked change. Rot and death slinked towards her, sly like the fox, but she would tolerate no more of it. Not after who she held in her arms and what had been done to him.

A circle of golden light pulsed within the grass around herself and Pit's still, broken form. It banished the darkness that stole the life and beauty of the garden; she raised her head and turned her face.

There Medusa stood, a cruel staff held in the grip of her left hand and planted down into the parched, cracked earth. The snakes swayed quietly atop her head, each of them gazing unblinkingly at Palutena.

"My hand did not strike him", the Goddess told the other quietly.

"You and I were sisters, born from the same spark of life", Medusa said. "We were called to govern perfect opposites. One could not exist without the other".

"You hated me", Palutena said.

Medusa's cold influence of death had encompassed the garden in its entirety now. A grim shadow fell across all in sight, and Palutena alone remained to be the single spark of light and life within it. The angels that had gathered about the platform were shut out by the vast shadow that now encompassed it, and she could neither see nor hear them.

"We were sisters, and you cut me down. You cursed me and turned me into a wretched monster, and then you cast me to Underworld to rot", Medusa spoke, her voice low and hateful, cold enough to send chilling ripples down the spine of the Goddess of Light.

"But in the end, you did not kill me. Instead, you showed mercy, and compassion. Perhaps in the end, as you cursed me to the brink of death, you recalled that I was of your blood and life".

Medusa lifted her staff and pointed its head directly at Pit's broken form. The blue serpent coiled around the crown of her staff lifted its head and hissed.

"Mercy and compassion is why your beloved angel is dead, Palutena. You should have slain me".

The Goddess lowered Pit's head gently to the preserved ground before rising to her feet and facing her twin. Long green hair billowed at her back, stirred by an ethereal wind. Her eyes were hard like the emerald of their colour.

"That is a mistake I will not repeat", she promised.

As she spoke, light began to gather at her arms, golden dust falling thick from on high as the Goddesses locked eyes and pressed their lips thin. Palutena's golden staff of office solidified in the grip of her palm, at its head an orb of sapphire crystal that caught the light emanating from her being. Her left arm slid through the leather straps of a large circular shield, its face the colour of the staff's gem and ringed with a border of gold.

Words were unnecessary; Palutena brought the shield before her as she angled the head of the staff down, pointing it at Medusa. She charged forward.

The snakes shrieked as Medusa sent black fire blazing forth from hooked fingers. Palutena brought the shield up and the flames washed harmlessly over its surface. Medusa hissed as she met Palutena's initial strike, intercepting a sure thrust with the body of her own staff and sending a shiver through the air as metal screeched upon metal.

Palutena brought the shield up to cover her centre before shoving hard into Medusa. The cursed Goddess' form shattered just before impact, disintegrating rapidly until it was nothing more than a thick, poisonous cloud. It retreated swiftly as Palutena recovered her balance and struck out once more, the glowing sapphire of her staff slicing through the air.

The Goddess chased down her twin as Medusa's form solidified. The latter's hand clawed viciously through the air, whipping flames towards Palutena as she approached. At the same time, she lifted her staff, the snake at its end uncoiling as it skin was tinged with darkness. Palutena blocked the surge of black fire once more, but she winced painfully and stumbled as Medusa pointed her staff in the Goddess' direction and the snaked opened its jaws wide and screeched.

The dead garden rang with the unnatural cacophony.

Medusa lunged, and Palutena barely turned her offensive charge into a defensive stance, raising the shield to deflect Medusa's blow. Unperturbed, the Goddess clawed upwards, her hand wreathed in dark flames. She struck Palutena squarely across the face. The Goddess cried out as she was knocked aside, barely keeping her feet as dark lines were torn into her cheek.

Medusa's eyes flashed in victory as she swung her staff fiercely at Palutena's exposed side, smashing into the Goddess' body with more than enough force to lift her clean off her feet. Palutena struck the ground hard, her shoulder impacting sharply with its surface and springing her staff from her grip. A pained cry was drawn from her lips.

A shadow loomed over her as she tried to rise. She lifted the shield – Medusa's hand tore straight through it, reaching for and then wrapping fingers around Palutena's neck. She lifted her fellow, choking Goddess up onto her knees, lowering her face to dwell mere moments from Palutena's. Palutena grabbed and pulled weakly at Medusa's wrist as her long fingers tightened.

Medusa glared down at her silently, her eyes cold and hard.

"I did not hate you", she spoke eventually, the movement of her pale lips minimal.

"I hated your love for humanity. I hated your way with words and the sound of your voice. I hated your insistence to see good in all things", Medusa told her, gazing hard and deep into the Goddess' eyes. "I hated many things _about_ you, but I did not hate _you_.

"You were my _sister_. It was _impossible_ for me to hate you, you who are a part of me woven so inextricably deep within my being. I would have destroyed all existence and harmed not a hair upon your head. But you betrayed me. You cursed me and left me for dead!"

Palutena's eyes bulged and she choked as Medusa snarled, her stark white eyes widening and blazing with ferocity as she squeezed the Goddess' throat with murderous intent.

"I should kill you!" she screamed into Palutena's face. "I should destroy you and scatter your ashes to the winds!"

However, her grip slowly began to loosen.

"But I will not", she told her. "I have waited for too long, sister. I was so close to losing my sanity to the very same darkness that I had been set over to govern, but I prevailed".

Medusa's hand was enveloped in dark flames as she allowed her staff to fall to the ground. Her voice was cold as she spoke, pure hatred and malice dripping from each word.

"I will make you suffer, Palutena", she promised, lifting the Goddess into the air until her feet dangled above the dead ground. "I will watch you writhe and listen to you scream in agony. I will _break _you!"

Her eyes flashed as her clawed hand sliced through the air.

* * *

**A/N**: Reworked, rewritten, and hopefully it will prove to be a stronger, better story this time around. I'm grateful for the comments that were given concerning the previous version, as it allowed me to realise that the story was turning into something wild and fragmented. I endeavoured to structure things more clearly this time around.

Well, enough of that. Let me know what you think if you have the time. Toodles ^^


	2. Chapter 2

Phosphora leaned down, thin fingers fiddling momentarily with the series of buckles stitched across the back of thick, sturdy boots. Standing up, she reached to the side where a large, flat leaf served almost as a platter. Its stalk was thick, and it stood upright for a portion of its length before twisting away to join the trunk of its parent. She took up a pair of dark purple bandages and then took to wrapping them tightly and neatly around her arm and hand, lacing them in between her fingers and crisscrossing them several times across her palm. The leaf-pedestal was withdrawn as Phosphora completed her work. She flexed her fingers, turning her hands over to inspect her efforts before turning to her other side.

As the leaf to her right sunk out of sight, one to her left was offered up, bearing its own gift. Phosphora picked up the proffered gauntlets one after the other, slipping her bandaged hands into their cold metallic innards. Each was silver-grey in colour, the decorative emblem depicting a life giving tree etched into the plating with stylistic green lines. The same emblem existed in larger form at the centre of her chestplate. The rounded sheets of metal encompassed her upper torso front and back, extending downwards to protect the firm, taut abdomen she usually left bared. The leaf retreated as she turned away from it, spinning on the balls of her feet to face behind her. A fearsome helm, crafted to reflect her temperament, sat upon a generous fan of leaves.

Phosphora reached up and behind her head; her hair was a wild, stubborn creature, fanning out behind her in the shape of a crescent, but she took it in hand. Scarlet tips brushed across her shoulders as she pulled and twisted her hair into a tight knot at the back of her head, and then she reached forwards to take up the helm.

"This is a wise course of action?" a young, pre-adolescent voice spoke.

Phosphora paused only for a moment, her lips tightening resolutely as she reached and took the helm in hand.

"Phosphora", the all too familiar voice called. She held the helm in the grip of her palms, gazing down at it with hard eyes.

"Phosphora".

She turned eventually, facing the small form of her Goddess. Though she took the form of a child on the verge of change, it was beyond Phosphora to even assume the true age of the Goddess of Nature. Her large brown eyes were fixed upon the armoured woman's; Phosphora could hold the gaze of the Goddess, but most certainly not out of defiance.

"I have not seen you in that armour for quite some time", the Goddess spoke, her eyes falling for a moment as she took in Phosphora's form. A shadow passed briefly across their surface as she looked up again.

"I must do this, Lady Viridi", Phosphora said.

"You would take the main brunt of an army which has already suffered considerable losses", the Goddess said, her voice young and yet impossibly wise, "and throw it once more against the walls of the city that the enemy has all but captured? You have taken no stock of how defensible their position is."

"It must be done", Phosphora said resolutely, lifting the helm to her head at last.

"I forbid it", Viridi said.

Phosphora paused, looking up to face her Goddess. Her expression was unmoved as she clutched the sacred white wood of her staff in hand. The plants and curved blades of grass seemed to shimmer in the glory of her presence. The vibrant heads of a hundred flowers turned towards her, basking in the warmth of her glow as each seemed to grow ever more beautiful by the moment.

Eventually, Phosphora's hands began to move again; she understood the Goddess' words.

"Fine", she said, a little roughly, "then I will go alone".

"I forbid it".

Phosphora stopped, looking back up to meet the Goddess' eyes. Her hair was long and lustrous, flowing down the side of her body until it stopped at the point of her knee. A thick twist of vine fashioned her white-blond locks into a ponytail at the side of her head. It served to provide a peculiar kind of symmetry with the white wood of her staff, carried always at her side. Phosphora fought to remain calm even as her palms pressed hard against the sides of the helm held between them.

"I must", she told Viridi.

"Throw away hundreds and thousands of lives, along with your own in a fruitless assault?" the Goddess finished for her. "I thought you were the Commander of my armies, Phosphora. A brilliant mind contained within a vessel of enviable power".

"I must do this". Phosphora said yet again, glancing down at the helm. "We must do as the agreement demands; we can't leave them to the Underworld's hand".

"We will adhere to it", the Goddess said. "We will not, however, waste lives in acts of futility".

Phosphora looked up with hard eyes. "Our first strike was not effectively co-ordinated; this one will be. There is no being in the Underworld forces that can best me. You know that!"

"What I know is that Medusa dares to walk the land in corporeal form", Viridi said. "What I know is that you in your anger would challenge her and die, swiftly and painfully. Needlessly I forbid it".

The finality of her tone and the authority and command of her voice suddenly set Phosphora into a panic, words tumbled from her lips as her arms began to shake, the helm trembling in her grip.

"Lady Viridi, please – "

"I – "

"I must do this. I can face her – "

"forbid – "

"I have to avenge him!"

"– it".

Their eyes were locked together, and neither seemed to move or breathe as the moments of tense silence extended. Viridi's expression was impassive even as Phosphora's gaze hardened and sharpened into a glare and the corners of her lips twisted into the shadows of a snarl. In a sudden, furious motion she cast the fearsome helm to the ground, crushing beneath its weight the tender head of a young flower. The Goddess did not react.

"Fine!" Phosphora yelled, turning her back on Viridi and looking up at the large crack that ran through the ceiling, a myriad of vines flowing into and out of it.

"I will do nothing!"

She leapt upwards and burst through the stone roof, showering the natural carpet below with heavy chunks of rock that all but flattened what was unfortunate enough to fall beneath their shadows.

Viridi's eyes softened as a cloud of dust settled where Phosphora had stood moments before. Walking over, the Goddess knelt down amongst the grass and flowers, placing the staff on the ground at her side before taking up the discarded helm.

The crushed flower rose anew as her presence radiated warmth and life. A small, sad smile shaped her lips as she took the helm in hand and stroked the pad of her thumb gently across the smooth, cold brow.

"Silly girl", she said quietly.

**xXx**

Her hair fell just past her shoulders when she roughly pulled on the tight makeshift knot, fanning out almost immediately into its typical crescent shape. Pulling her hands out of her gauntlets, she angrily threw them aside, knowing she would have to search through the tall grass to find them later, but right now she needed some form of outlet.

Her eyes turned to the side for just a moment, Phosphora hissed in pain as she stubbed her foot into a bulky chunk of rock lying in her impromptu path. Hopping on the spot as she sucked in air between her teeth, Phosphora glared at the rock as though it were a foe on the battlefield, electricity clawing its way up her arm.

The pain was a blessing and a curse as her fist lanced forward and the rock's pitted, angular face exploded in a shower of pebbles. Her hand and wrist ached fiercely; she relished it and yet seethed because of it, the pain for a moment occupying the attention of all her senses as tiny sparks of electricity flitted over the surface of the rock. Lowering her stinging foot to the ground, Phosphora turned and slumped against the rock, sliding to the ground with the rough sound of cloth grazing against stone accompanying her.

Viridi's fortress stood not too far off before her, an age old work of stone crafted by the hands of the Elders and gifted unto the Goddess. Yet it was no longer a pure work of masonry set against a crystal blue backdrop. The Goddess of Nature's influence was plain for all to see. Vines crept between the minute gaps between bricks, bearing upon their long, twisting bodies a plethora of vibrant colours as countless flowers bloomed with pride. Tall, strong trees cast their shadows upon the walls of the Temple, their heads heavy and green, and boughs pregnant with ever ripe fruit.

Phosphora had emerged from an armoury of sorts, though it served as a place of organised containment for her needs alone. Her armour was a work of metal crafted by Dyntos himself, the God of the Forge. Neither she nor Viridi had requested such an item of him, but he had looked down and found himself struck with awe by her ferocity upon the field of battle, crafting the armour to emulate and emphasise her temperament. It was a gift that could not be turned down, and until today, she had not reached for it in countless years.

Phosphora looked away from the overgrown fortress, fighting to hold onto her anger lest weaker emotions take control of her. Anger at Viridi; anger at the fact that she knew she would never go against her Goddess' word, and anger at her own failure.

She had been too slow, she the wielder of lightning who could split the sky with a jagged fork of light and could consume great distances in the blink of an eye. She had been too slow, but cruelly, her eyes were sharp enough to see.

Medusa held Pit in the grasp of her shadows, a black knife edge pointed at his heart. Phosphora had cried out and thrown herself forward as she burst through the cage of dark limbs, in the corner of her eye seeing the Goddess of Light emerge through into the realm of Man. Where no one else could see, Phosphora saw.

The Goddess' face was lined with panic and real fear. Her hair fanned out wildly behind her as she shot forwards at a pace even Phosphora could not match, and her eyes were wide. But Medusa had already thrown the knife edge into motion.

A choked cry had formed behind Phosphora's lips as the shadowy limb tore into the angel's body. A mere moment later did his Goddess snatch him away, but Phosphora had watched in numb horror as the shadows folded around Pit's pulsing heart.

She pressed her eyes shut and shook her head as though to dislodge the images from before her mind's eye. She felt moisture forming beneath her lids as nausea twisted her bowels. Her anger softened in the face of the sorrow and grief that had been bubbling underneath the surface of her skin over the past few days.

"Pit", Phosphora murmured gently, drawing her knees to her chest.

It was strange to think that she had only been made aware of his existence a mere twenty-five years prior, after he had defeated and killed the Goddess of Darkness, Medusa. The circumstances involving the sister Goddesses' dispute was something Viridi had been aware of, though she staunchly refused to involve herself or anything affiliated with her.

When news had trickled through the vine, so to speak, Phosphora had found herself awed and quite intrigued. She had lived long enough to know of the deaths of several gods, but never had the hand that delivered the killing blow belonged to anything other than a fellow god. Palutena's angel had rewritten the rules in the space of a moment, and no doubt set a number of the pantheon on edge.

She did not meet the famed angel until fifteen years later, and he had proved to be more than a surprise for her.

From the stories she had heard, she had constructed an image of the angel that had become concrete over time before her mind's eye. Meeting him in person had all but shattered it. She had not expected a demure individual, one who carried the pride of protecting his Goddess from a certain eventual demise behind his eyes at all times. Love and devotion had carved of him a being radiant with an infectious aura. He was a jovial creature, quick to laugh; she could not meet his bright, sparkling blue eyes without a smile curving her lips.

She had warmed quickly to Pit, and he even more so to her. Though he was devoted to his Goddess, Palutena, it was clear that he was eager to make a friend with whom he shared similarities.

Pit occupied a peculiar place, being an angel among the great number that existed in Palutena's realm and yet regarded more favourably by the Goddess than any other. He was undoubtedly a servant, but after seeing the manner of relationship between the Goddess and her most favoured angel, Phosphora wondered whether Pit had ever thought to call Palutena his friend. Regardless, he had been thoroughly excited to meet her, and if she allowed herself a moment of honesty, she would make an admission in kind.

Lowering her chin to rest upon her arms, she smiled sadly as she recalled his nature. Being around Pit was sometimes a tiring experience; the angel's energy was seemingly limitless and Phosphora often marvelled at his Goddess' patience. She had snapped at him a fair number of times in sheer exasperation during the beginnings of their friendship.

Phosphora knew not her true age and neither did Pit his, but it was clear that between them, she was the elder. She showed him the corners of Overworld he had yet to know existed, telling him stories that had sobered his wide grin. She would keep the darkest details to herself; she did not want to spoil his nature. He in turn would show her the beauty of his Goddess' realm, proudly regaling her with stories of the many pranks Palutena had played on him. Phosphora could only arch her brow and wonder why he was so happy to be teased and tricked so often by the Goddess.

They had trained together, Phosphora often the harsh teacher and more often than not the victor in their practice bouts. They had fought side by side in quelling small uprisings of the Underworld, and there upon the field of battle Phosphora witnessed the side of Pit that had no doubt led him through to victory over the one time Queen of the Underworld.

He possessed a will of iron, and a steely determination to see his task through to the bitter end. She understood then the strength of his devotion and the depths of his love for his Goddess. When she tasked him, he would complete his objectives to the fullest of his capabilities. There upon the first battlefield they shared, a newfound sense of respect and admiration for Pit had nestled within her.

They grew close over the years, and their respective Goddesses could not help but acknowledge them. Palutena proved to be more sensitive towards the nature of their relationship. Viridi had seemed to be indifferent for the longest time towards their friendship, though in the latter years she had begun to insult Pit lightly whenever she chanced upon them together. Phosphora had needed to explain to a hurt, worried Pit that her Goddess expressed herself a little unconventionally.

Phosphora's jaw began to ache as the muscles there tightened, her eyes narrowing and growing hard as moisture filmed their surfaces. She didn't want to cry, she wanted to cut down the savage Goddess who had slain her friend. His face swam before her eyes, his gaze bright and lips wide, curved into a joyous smile as her heart ached. The pain of loss was sharp and hot at her breast, a void torn into her as though the cursed Goddess had run her through too.

A soft hand was placed upon her shoulder. Phosphora had not heard the approach of its owner, but the familiarity of the contact pushed her emotions up through the walls of her core. She choked on them as they bubbled towards her lips, and Pit's image before her eyes lost its clarity as her vision swam. She fought to hold herself back.

"It's alright", Viridi said softly, and Phosphora felt herself break.

She felt a brief moment of shame – the commander of the Goddess of Nature's armies caught weeping by the Goddess herself? But then she felt the Goddess draw her close as she pressed tearful eyes shut. A hand took to stroking her hair as she laid her head against her Goddess' bosom, an arm wrapped comfortingly around her waist. The heavy feelings of sorrow and grief that had been accumulating behind tender walls burst through. She wept.

"You loved him", Viridi said eventually when Phosphora had calmed. She didn't feel as though she had the strength to speak, but she parted tear-splashed lips anyhow.

"I will never know another like him", she whispered in a hoarse voice.

"Mm. He was certainly unique", Viridi said as she stroked Phosphora's stubborn locks. "I don't know where Palutena found the energy to endure him".

Despite herself, Phosphora smiled.

"Friends such as Pit are few and far between, Phosphora", Viridi spoke gently, "but it would do you no good to throw away your life in blind anger. You must live, and preserve his memory".

Phosphora sniffed then, her body stiffening as she mistook Viridi's meaning, lifting a hand to swipe away tears.

"Let your tears fall", Viridi said, catching Phosphora's wrist. "There is a moment for all things, and this is one of grief and sorrow".

Phosphora spoke in a low voice, dark with intention. "And vengeance, and justice".

"Phosphora, while it is true that Pit brought death upon a being far greater than he, it was not through his own strength. Palutena caught her sister off guard and was able to lay the curse upon Medusa before she could react. She was weakened considerably, even when she rose to power and took her seat in the Underworld. Pit's victory over her was by the barest of margins.

"Through means I do not know at present, Medusa has returned, but she was resurrected in the fullness of power she held as the governess of the darkness, along with the latent ability Palutena's curse inadvertently granted her. Neither Pit nor Palutena could prove as a match for her this time, that is why he was slain. Palutena…I don't know where she is".

Viridi tilted her face with a hand beneath her chin, looking down at her with softened eyes. "Phosphora, as powerful as you are you stand no chance against Medusa…and soon, I will be forced to question my own ability to match her".

She looked up then, seeming to contemplate the walls of her fortress. "With each day, she gains power as she harvests the souls of the Underworld. She has taken back the reins of that realm as though she was never parted from it".

Phosphora scoffed. "Surely she cannot match you, Lady Viridi".

A frown creased the Goddess' brow and she glanced down at Phosphora with clouded eyes. "The power contained within a soul is a mystery to me, Phosphora, but I watched Medusa mount her war twenty-five years ago. It was not the same broken and weak Medusa that was cast down to the pit of the Underworld".

Phosphora spoke again after a long moment, slowly drawing herself away from Viridi's embrace"With Lady Palutena imprisoned, Man lacks their guardian". She sat up and crossed her legs, dipping her head in thought. "Will you continue to…?"

The Goddess' eyes darkened as she spoke in a dry tone. "My track record with the humans isn't particularly encouraging, is it? But, I gave my word".

The Goddess was sitting on her knees beside Phosphora, intricate patterns woven into her burgundy attire while a purple flower sat fixed at her chest. She turned now to face Phosphora, who brushed a finger beneath her eye, collecting the last of her tears.

"Phosphora, I need you now more than ever. You are my sharpest mind and a force to be reckoned with. I _promise_ you that the time will come where you will have your chance to avenge Pit, but –"

"I am yours", Phosphora said sincerely, and she brought herself humbly to her knees, bowing low before the Goddess.

"I…I will wait", she said, though with some reluctance. Viridi was not deaf to that reluctance, but she understood. Reaching forwards, she touched Phosphora's shoulder and she lifted her face.

"I hope you remember where you threw your armour", Viridi said as she rose to her feet, collecting her staff which had been propped up against the rock. "I certainly wasn't going to clean up after you".

Phosphora smiled as the Goddess turned and began to walk away, the tall grass leaning towards her as her presence fell upon them. She lifted her eyes to the blue scape above the Forest, Pit's name a soft and easy breath upon her lips.

He had shown her the love of friendship, opening her heart in a manner that she had silently treasured. When she had admitted to herself with a whisper that she loved him in return, it had brought the widest, silliest grin to her. Viridi had promptly let her know how ridiculous she looked with 'that thing wrapped across her face'.

She would never forget him, and she promised to honour his memory. She would devote her strength to delivering his Goddess from Medusa's grasp, and fight to protect humankind from the scourge of the Underworld in his stead. Lowering her eyes from the beautiful, clear sky above, a frown creased her brow.

Where had she thrown her gauntlets?


	3. Chapter 3

_Falling…She fell further than she had ever done so before. Darkness surged past her and the rushing wind deafened her as she flailed blindly. Her head was afire, such pain as she had never known splitting her scalp and her lips. Her voice lifted in a ragged cry, filling the void around her. And then suddenly, her descent ended, the ground rising up to meet her. Her breath was driven completely from her body by the impact, her voice reduced to nothing more than a rasp as she writhed in pain._

_All was dark and cold and she knew only the torment afflicting itself upon her. Her eyes were blind to the creatures of the dark that crept out from their sullen abodes to look upon her. She barely heard the skittering of their feet as they fled before her chorus of pain. _

_She lay there for a time she would not know, pinned to the ground by her affliction. The serpents rose from her scalp and blood and tears painted their path upon her face. The Underworld hid itself as the voice of the fallen Goddess rent the air._

**xXx**

The glowing light of countless souls stained the dark room with illumination, but the damp cold that pervaded the chamber remained. The souls circled near the ceiling of the room, a slow and mournful stream of life torn from the breast of the countless slain by command of the Queen. Dark bands of shadow seemed to be fastened along the walls, forcing the length of the souls' never-ending circuit into a tube-like shape, granting the chamber the perverse mockery of a halo.

Below it, Medusa sat upon a cold throne, her form wrapped in an unnatural darkness. Her eyes were lifted to the souls above, flitting from side to side as she sought one in particular. She found it eventually, isolating its confused whisper from its terrified companions. The fingers of her raised hand curled and black tendrils snaked their way up towards the ceiling.

Medusa's expression remained impassive as the shadows reared and then plunged into the stream of souls. The steady flow of the bulbs of multifaceted light suddenly became a wild torrent, a collective voice of terror sweeping down to grace her ear. Light rushed around the halo as the shadows delved into its depths; Medusa curled her fingers tighter and felt the soul clutched in her grasp.

The Queen lifted her voice to the darkness. "Do you know how to inflict suffering upon another?"

"By your command, Majesty, I do".

A voice heavily distorted by the energies running through its body gave the reply. Medusa glanced momentarily at the being to whom the voice belonged; Gaol, armoured in menacing fashion. It was granted a demonic appearance by the thick, twin horns that curved upwards from the sides of a rounded helm. Heavy metallic plating encased it entirely, lined with patterns of blood. It stood at the foot of her throne, arms folded behind its back. The hem of its crimson cloak brushed along the ground.

"You do not", Medusa told the creature, turning her face back to the soul she drew from the stream. "You cannot know how to inflict suffering unless you yourself have suffered".

The dark tendrils brought the glowing orb before her sight, sinking back into her fingertips. She silently regarded the slowly revolving soul for a moment, and then she lifted her eyes.

"Have you suffered, Gaol?"

"Majesty…"

"Not truly, then", Medusa said. "You may temper my forces with the lash of whip, but that is not true pain".

Her fingertips danced along the surface of the golden-white orb as she spoke, and with each infinitesimal touch, she heard the ragged whisper of torment of a voice she hated beyond words. He screamed his revulsion at her touch and the burning pain it caused him.

She had dreamt of this moment ceaselessly, bringing herself a brief respite in the incarceration of death. Hate and the hunger for revenge served to keep alive the flame of her heart and even in death, she had lived. But to kill him had not brought her the joy she had envisioned. Her hate and hunger remained unsatisfied, a constant gnawing at her core. Now, while she held him in her grasp, she struggled to restrain herself from crushing his soul to dust. There was so much more to be done.

The glowing orb sank beneath her flesh, encompassed by darkness and dragged down into her palm. She lifted her eyes once more to the stream of souls above.

A torrent of light poured down upon the ground behind Gaol, thick and heavy with fearful whispers. The light coalesced and solidified into forms she knew all too well, creatures who shared the intensity of her hate along with their Goddess and guardian angel. Bodies, weak and frail, fell to the ground with a wet sound, and Medusa's lip curled in disgust as she watched them attempt to pry themselves from the cold floor with trembling limbs.

She rose to her feet and Gaol turned only when she had passed by, pivoting smoothly on its heels. They struggled to stand before her, crimson eyes turned downwards in fear and subservience, bodies shaking as the cold of the dark room embraced their naked flesh. She walked before them slowly under the guise of inspecting them, but truly she only desired for one of them to stir her simmering rage.

They were perfect, however, and not an eye was lifted or a limb stirred without her command. Coming to the end of the row of pathetic, shivering forms, Medusa turned away lest she waste all her work and the souls she had used to craft them. Gaol stood perfectly still also, awaiting instruction. She gave it, and the creature spoke its understanding, cracking a whip of emerald fire a moment later. Medusa glanced briefly at it, its bright and brazen colour reminding her of her sister.

That reminder stayed her hand as Gaol's whip snapped and drew a loud gasp of pain from its victim. She held onto her rage with an iron will as the creature led her newest assets from the throne room.

**xXx**

Her shoulders ached, and pain shot through her the moment she shifted her body by even the smallest fraction. Her wince echoed off the cold walls, multiplied to lingering hiss by the silence of the room.

Her arms were strung up to either side of her body, thick chains extending out into the darkness and affixed to the walls of her cell. Her toes barely scraped across the ground. Cracked lips parted and a swollen tongue slowly crept forwards, curling at its tip in an attempt to smear moisture along them. She swallowed, painfully.

The ache of her shoulders was sharp, as though a hot knife was being sunk into her flesh as she hung motionless. Her arms had been lifted to a point just above and behind the plane of her shoulders, and the pain had made its presence known quickly. It lingered, a cruel and persistent reminder. Beyond that, her body throbbed with a slow, dull rhythm. She had splashed her cheeks with tears as her body's torture orchestrated itself into an unpleasant crescendo.

Biting her lip, Palutena slowly lifted her head as she heard the familiar creaking of her prison's doors. It was beyond her to tell how long she had been kept here; her sense of time was skewed as the constant pain proved to be a credible and frequent distraction. It felt like an age.

Palutena had not known bodily pain for as long as she could cast her mind back, not even when she had been imprisoned during the Underworld's uprising twenty-five years prior.

The darkness of the room was brightened fractionally as the heavy door was pushed open, rays of light filtering in before the solid shadow of a figure stepped forwards into the doorway. Smaller, thinner shadows swayed above its head, a cursed crown that filled the room with a hiss that harmonized unnervingly with her ragged gasp. She very briefly saw the outline of another figure beyond the doorway before the door was pushed shut, slamming against its frame with a heavy, metallic thud.

"Sister", the familiar voice spoke quietly, "how fares your prison?"

Palutena narrowed her eyes as she glared into the darkness, the outline of the Goddess distinct within it as she drew closer to the bars of the cage.

"Did you know that how you are bound at present imitates my own bondage while I dwelt in death?"

Palutena had nothing to say. Threats and violent promises had spilled from her lips in the initial hours of her imprisonment after she had woken from unconsciousness. Her body was hot with anger and the shame of defeat, but Medusa had only stood there silently. She had watched and listened to the words spilling from her sister's lips without comment. And then, only when Palutena's tirade had lost its steam –

_"You will suffer. I will make you scream in despair, Palutena"._

Now, Medusa brought herself once more to the edge of Palutena's cage, the shadows sliding away from her as though she had stepped into a new pocket of reality. Palutena had thought she had detected a sneer in her sister's voice, but she saw that Medusa's lips formed a rigid line and that her eyes simmered with a fury that had been nurtured long and carefully. It had grown into a savage beast that bent its knees before Medusa's masterful control.

The Goddess' features were thrown into sharp contrast as she lifted her hand and held it out as though to present Palutena something. The Goddess' eyes were captured by her sister's cold, white orbs, and she could not discern the feeling that she felt bubbling beneath her skin. She turned her eyes downwards as a small bulb of light appeared above Medusa's palm.

"It has been twenty-five days, Palutena. Fitting, isn't it? I was impatient, but I had to be sure your punishment matured properly".

Medusa lifted her other hand and crowned the orb with the tips of her fingers. Palutena was puzzled; she thought the orb of light was far too small to be recognized as a soul, but she did not know of any other form of light that Medusa could manipulate. Still, a suspicion took her, and she strained her hearing. It was a few moments before she picked up the very faint murmur of a terrified soul.

"I thought it best that I be considerate of my new guest", Medusa said, breaking the silence. "I have found a companion for you, lest you feel lonely".

The undercurrent of pure, cold malice was evident in her voice. Darkness flowed from her fingertips and laced around the bulb of light in an instant. Medusa removed her hands and stepped away, the shroud of shadows eagerly embracing her form. The stark white of her eyes lingered momentarily, orbs that hung fixed in the darkness, and as Palutena met them, she felt a streak of ice run through her being.

The bulb of light was encompassed completely, and Palutena watched as its form underwent change, growing exponentially larger and fanning outwards as it gradually became more insubstantial. In the passing of a few moments, what Palutena could only describe as a ragged shadow existed on the other side of her cage. She winced loudly as she tried to pull herself away from the bars when the shadow loomed close.

"What is this?" she hissed in a pained voice before she could catch herself.

The shadow was ever so slowly pressing forward, as though it fought to gain every inch as it advanced closer. Palutena's eyes narrowed and then began to widen as the voice she had strained to hear spoke once more, though this time with much more clarity.

"Medusa, what have you done?"

"There is more to lose besides one's power or one's life", Medusa spoke from the darkness.

The shadow pressed closer, its form beginning to seep through into her cage, pulling its ragged shape past the smooth, cold bars. The chains jangled wildly as Palutena fought against her bonds; the shadow spoke with a voice she knew all too well, one that tore at her heart to hear.

"What have you done to him?!"

"You will suffer as I suffered", Medusa promised. "You will burn as I once burned, and you will screamfor the mercy of death!"

The loss of restraint was evident as Medusa's voice shook. Hatred – cold, hard hatred – twisted her lips into an unsightly shape, and the fires that rose up to her eyes burned hot upon their surface. The ragged shadow finally slipped into her sister's cage. It rose up until it brushed against the ceiling, its voice lifted to a terrible roar. A cold, biting wind rushed from the void of its maw as it dived down and claimed the Goddess as its prey.

Palutena screamed. Medusa watched, her eyes flashing in the darkness. The snakes at her scalp hissed in distress, coiling and pressing down into Medusa's hair.

Palutena's voice rent the air as the prison's heavy door swung open, and Medusa cast a single look back at her before the door slammed shut.

Outside, Medusa glared darkly at the wall which somewhat muted her sister's voice. She had long adored the sound of human terror, basking in the symphony of the hoarse shouts drawn from the lips of men and the guttural shriek torn from the throats of women. The confused whimper of children was among the sweetest of sounds to her ear. And yet, the cry of Palutena pierced her. She had yearned to hear it, and yet now she wanted to flee from it.

It was a terrible sound, that which burst from the lips of her sister. But Medusa did not know mercy. She looked to the lone guard who stood ramrod straight besides the heavy door.

"I pity you".

"Thank you, Majesty", was the dutiful and immediate reply.

Medusa turned and walked away. Palutena screamed.


	4. Chapter 4

From her vantage point upon a small, empty platform, Phosphora looked down upon the sprawling city with a sharp and observant eye, her arms folded across her chest. From where she stood, she overlooked the intricate pattern created by numerous buildings that stretched far into the distance. Stone platforms of varying sizes floated peaceably in the air, some bearing upon them the small, quaint abodes of the angels.

Upon the line of the horizon floated the majestic Temple that belonged to the Goddess of Light, light gleaming gold upon its raised dome rooftops. Her statue stood tall atop the highest roof, vast angelic wings spread to either side of her body and encompassing the structure dedicated to her.

Directly at the foot of the Temple lay the small city. The Goddess' angels milled about in the streets between the buildings, many casting momentary glances in her direction. She had not intended it, merely choosing this spot as it gave her one of the better views for which to look upon and assess the realm, yet she stood out against the backdrop of sky, striking an imposing figure as she gazed down at Skyworld's citizens.

Many of them would be familiar with her, or at least familiar with her name, after she had befriended Pit. The angel had been placed on a pedestal by his fellow beings, and his name was more than known among them. Officially, he had been close to Palutena by way of being appointed the captain of her personal guard, but beyond that, all knew that the Goddess had held a special fondness for him. Phosphora's acquaintance with the angel was known amongst Skyworld's populace fairly swiftly. News had travelled fast. What made it such a hot topic among the populace though was the manner of her allegiance.

Her allegiance had stirred a certain anxiety amongst the populace when she had begun visiting Skyworld to meet with Pit. To say that the Goddess of Nature disliked humankind was to be putting it politely.

Viridi was infamous for her utter abhorrence of Man, and it was assumed that those in her employ would carry the same values. The angels of Skyworld had been reluctant to be in Phosphora's presence, though they were not necessarily humankind. They were correct to assume that she carried hatred within her heart, but it was not humans for whom she held it.

It was often and wrongly assumed that Phosphora shared a similar position as Pit in being the Goddess of Nature's favoured angel. Phosphora was not however, an angel, as Viridi did not keep them. She was rather a creature of old whose existence had become a closely guarded secret when the dangers of extinction had crept upon them.

She was a nymph, a being with an intrinsic affinity to the things of Nature. Her power differed greatly from and outmatched that of the vast majority of – if not all – angels, whether they be Palutena's or otherwise, being able to influence the skies around her and manipulate lightning at will.

With the Goddess of Light missing from her seat, her realm was under threat. The threat originated most immediately from the Underworld and its reinstated Queen, Medusa. Aside from that, there was always the underlying possibility for another of the pantheon to lay ambitious eyes upon the ungoverned realm. It would not be the first time that a God or Goddess had laid claim to the lands of another and struck up conflict as a result.

Viridi had stepped in to protect against both possibilities, taking up the role of governess of Skyworld. It would seem at first that this was an act of the Goddess of Nature claiming the realm for herself, but it was known among the pantheon that some sort of agreement existed between the two. The Goddesses were seen to share some manner of relationship, though it was difficult to define.

Though she had come to look over and assess the layout of Skyworld in a tactical fashion, Phosphora found that her mind wandered as she considered the poignancy of her Goddess' recent actions. Phosphora knew the depths of Viridi's hate for humankind, and she had doubted that the Goddess would hold up to the end of the agreement long since made with Palutena.

Viridi had first sent the Forces of Nature to fight in humankind's defence, but Phosphora reasoned that the Goddess would justify that as defending her own interests. To personally take up the protection of humankind however, was another matter entirely. Phosphora lowered her eyes as a bittersweet memory came to the forefront of her mind.

The nymphs had once been plentiful in number, revered amongst humankind and lusted for by the Gods. They were beautiful, powerful creatures, and only the Gods could look upon them and maintain the fullness of their faculties. Humans the nymphs exposed themselves to often fell under the spell of complete and utter infatuation, driven to the point of death as they grew mad with it.

Phosphora, one of seven sisters, had always taken care when she chose to visit Man's realm. Humankind fascinated and intrigued her, but she had not wished to be the cause of such a death. But Gods and Goddesses alike had desired her. The attentions of her and her sisters especially were often sought for, and inevitably several of the Gods had proved to lack the power of restraint.

The struggle between two Gods in particular over their self-declared claim of possession of her and her sisters had sparked a greater feud – and the nymphs had paid the ultimate price. Fuelled by jealousy, Gods had begun to kill the nymphs. Once the bloodshed started, the nymphs began to fall like drops of rain in a storm. Their power was unquestionably outmatched by the Gods, and those of the pantheon that had once shown restraint quickly forgot it. The nymphs suffered atrocities beyond simply death as the Gods inadvertently endeavoured to purge them from existence.

**xXx**

_Viridi walked towards the site of disturbance, planting her staff to the ground in time with each of her strides. Low hanging branches bent towards her as she passed by thick, tall trees, leaves ghosting across her cheek as she listened to Nature's soft whisper of adoration. She hummed her own song in return, and the Forest glowed as the depths of her love flowed through its very roots. But there was great sadness here. Pain and despair had crashed down into the heart of the Forest and she could feel its harsh cry upon the air._

_Foliage parted and she stepped through it. Though she gave no outward sign, she prepared herself; the Forest stood poised to answer to her call. The Goddess slowed her stride as the gloom of grief grew thick and heavy. She did not turn as lightning forked through the air towards her._

_The ground tore upwards, several makeshift limbs climbing skyward and twisting rapidly about each other into a thick cone of solid earth. The cone took the brunt of the strike and was blasted apart, smoking earth flying in all directions. Another fork of lightning was accompanied with a vicious shout, yet still she did not turn. The Forest rose to her defence once more. _

_Viridi lifted her staff and pointed as the second cone was blasted apart, and the scattered earth reformed even whilst in the air, solidifying into a blunt object that surged in the direction her staff pointed towards and struck hard the shoulder of her attacker. The branches of surrounding trees thickened and lengthened beyond their natural means, shooting forwards and wrapping themselves tightly around legs, arms and wrists. The captive attacker screamed her rage until a sinewy branch choked her into silence._

_The Goddess lowered her staff to the ground and turned to regard the creature in her grasp. She was naked but for a few torn rags that lay skewed across her body – and her body was marred with bruise and blood. Her cheeks were stained with tears and her moist eyes burned hot as she glared at Viridi._

_"It would do you no good to shout and scream", Viridi advised as she approached the creature. "The direction of your fall was incredibly fortunate"._

_She made a small gesture and the branch around its throat loosened its hold fractionally._

_"Get it over with", the woman spat the moment her voice was freed. It was fierce and as ragged as the tattered clothes upon her back. "Kill me and be done with it!"_

_Viridi stood within reach of the creature, appraising her. "You…are a nymph?" she surmised. "I have longed to meet one of your kind"._

_"Of course you have", the woman said through bared teeth. "We are nothing more than your tools. Your whores! My sisters are dead at your hand!"_

_"I have not raise my hand against the nymphs", Viridi said quietly._

_"But you have now", the woman said, glaring at the Goddess. She laughed bitterly then. "Beat me. Rape me. Kill me. That's all we are good for to the Gods"._

_"I am not interested in you for pleasure", Viridi said. "The nymphs, as I understand them, are beings who share their deepest heart with Nature. As I do"._

_The woman's eyes narrowed. "Who are you…?"_

_"I am one who would protect you", Viridi said, and she gestured towards the creature's bonds. They fell away, withdrawing upwards towards their parent trees. The woman held a defensive posture and backed away several steps; Viridi could see the weakness in her body as she trembled._

_"This is a trick", the woman declared, shaking her head as she unknowingly backed herself against the trunk of a tree._

_"There are few Gods foolish enough to challenge me", Viridi said. "Fewer still who will ever find this place. I promise that I can and will protect you"._

_"Then, why…" the woman trailed off and shook her head. "Then why did you not come to the defence of others? My sisters - !" her voice choked with grief and she collapsed to her knees. Viridi went to her and knelt, laying her staff at her side._

_"I did not know the plans of the Gods until the bloodshed began", she said quietly. "You see that I do not sit in the heavens along with the others. The nymphs have hidden themselves from all but the heavenly pantheon, but had I known where to find you, I would certainly have intervened"._

_The woman looked up then, her eyes shining with tears but as hard as rocks._

_"From this moment", Viridi said as she held the creature's eyes, "you will hold me accountable to every word I speak concerning you. I wish to gain your trust. I wish you to dwell with me, and I will never deceive you"._

_The woman laughed. "You cannot keep such a promise"._

_Viridi held the nymph's gaze unblinkingly, and a long, tense silence stretched between them._

_"They went to war over us", the woman spoke eventually, her voice soft. "A few tried to protect us…" her voice hitched and she blinked, looking away._

_"Tell me your name", Viridi bid gently, and after a long moment, the nymph answered with a whisper._

_The Goddess made the promise to the nymph without hesitation. "I will take care of you, Phosphora"._

**xXx**

She had held true to that promise. Gods caught up in the fervour of lust – both for her body and her blood – had come to claim her, and Viridi had held true to her promise against every one of them.

She had witnessed first-hand the ferocity of Viridi in protecting her. Where others had failed, she had not. In time, the Gods who had made it their intention to challenge the Goddess of Nature in order to take possession of the nymph in her care were either brought to an untimely end, or proved wise enough to forget such course of action.

Over time, her lustre as a nymph had begun to wane. Sorrowfully, she recognised that the once great numbers of her kind had dwindled to almost nothing. Their collective essence had faded and the light of her ethereal beauty grew dim. Since the day she had fallen from the heavens and crashed into the Forest, she had not seen another nymph. Her heart grew heavy and cold, and were it not for Viridi, she would have cast her own life away in despair. Instead, she had devoted herself in service to the Goddess; Viridi had helped to keep her sane.

She blinked long and hard as she felt familiar feelings of deep gratitude rising up within her. Looking out over the scape of Skyworld had served to remind her of the Goddess' capacity for kindness and gentleness. Still, she knew that Viridi did not hold such qualities in regard to humankind. She could only wonder how far the Goddess would go to uphold her word for them.

"Lady Phosphora?"

She straightened as she heard the voice. "I've told you, you don't need to call me that".

"Ah, my apologies", the angel said quickly. Phosphora turned her head as the angel came to stand beside her.

"What is it, Ivorie?"

The angel in question took the form of a pale skinned young woman, her lustrous scarlet hair reaching down to the small of her back. Her wings were broad, even when folded neatly against her back; she was unquestionably a strong flier. Pit had expressed his envy to her regarding them numerous times, Phosphora remembered. She had been the vice-captain of Palutena's royal guard, promoted through means no one would have wished for and the subject of her protection all but absent. Phosphora had remembered her to be a lively, spirited individual, but now she had grown sombre.

"Lady Viridi has requested you", Ivorie reported.

Phosphora nodded her understanding, though she turned back to gaze down at Skyworld's populace.

"Lady – ah, Phosphora?"

"Sorry", she said to the angel, turning to her. "Walk with me", she bid.

She had promised to uphold the memory of Pit, and with fondness she recalled how he would endeavour to bring a smile to her lips when she grew serious around him. She was sure he would not object to her attempting the same with Ivorie.

**xXx**

Hades leaned back, settling himself comfortably into the shape of his seat. At his right side, a silver bowl sat atop a raised pedestal, situated within ease of his reach. A translucent, slightly viscous liquid occupied the innards of the bowl and ripples spread slowly from its centre, though nothing physical disturbed it. Hades crossed one leg over the other as with a contented sigh, he tilted his face and peered into the surface of the liquid. He touched a finger to the edge of the bowl and slowly traced a path about its rim.

The liquid within was troubled, multiple ripples emanating from the continuous edge of the bowl towards its centre and the liquid was stirred into a state of confusion. But Hades saw with perfect clarity; the surface of the liquid calmed and revealed to the God a world beyond his own.

His lips curved into a wide smile, flashing the brilliant white of teeth as he looked down upon the human city overrun by an innumerable horde of Underworld creatures. They poured over the high, thick walls like a flood; they surged through the city's shattered gates and clogged its throat, choking the city to a standstill. Everywhere the Lord of the Underworld turned his gaze he relished the sights and sounds of chaos. The Underworld army was indeed cruel and ruthless; not a hair upon a single head was spared.

Hades, in fact, was made to arch his brow as he looked upon the havoc wreaked upon the humans. The Underworld army fought with a ferocity he had personally not witnessed for some time, their great and overwhelming numbers somehow co-ordinated into a recognisably orderly fashion, despite their viciousness in battle.

It appeared that their reinstated Queen had indeed cracked their whip at their backs, he mused. He had never bothered much for such a display of coordination when sending the Underworld's forces forth. Having access to a seemingly infinite supply of souls with which to continually forge an army did not necessarily inspire one to wax creatively with strategy.

The surface of the liquid was troubled again, and the images within it melted into a distinctively different scene. Hades looked upon the vast scape of Skyworld, a realm ripe for the taking after Palutena had been plucked from its midst. Or it would have been at least, if the Goddess of Nature had not swiftly stepped in to govern the land.

Hades had had to spare a moment to dwell in disbelief at Viridi's actions. He had all but believed her contempt for humankind would have led her to take advantage of Palutena's absence. It would have been quite fascinating to watch Man struggle beneath the hammer blows of the two Goddesses who despised them most intensely.

Regardless, it did not detract too grievously from his original designs. When he had considered it, he began to see that he would take much entertainment from the manner in which the situation would develop. Stirring the bowl's contents once more, Hades brought his eye back to his own realm, more specifically to where a particular fortress was situated.

Within it, Hades was aware of the existence of a powerful being that bent its knee before Medusa, though its origin was unknown to him. Here was also the place where the Goddess herself had currently taken residence. The things taking place within it however, were beyond his scope, at least if he wished to keep his presence a secret. He had no intentions of revealing himself just yet.

As he drew his fingertip around the rim of the bowl another time, he suddenly felt a presence – or rather several – intrude with ease into his space. For a moment, he sat up sharply as his eyes darted about the semi-darkness that enclosed him, but just before that unmistakeable voice spoke, he recognised who it was that now shared his self-invoked prison.

"Hades".

Their voices merged together in a both soothing and disconcerting fashion. Male and female tones coiled about one another and intertwined, harmonizing in a sweet song, yet at the same time the coiling forms possessed ridged backs, roughly jutting out into the body of their neighbour. The collective voice encompassed him more completely than the semi-darkness he had drawn about himself, and the gravity of their bodiless presence was uncomfortably heavy upon him.

"Elders. I greet you to my humble abode", Hades said with a charming tone and a crooked smile.

A female voice spoke without preamble. "You have overstepped your boundaries, Hades".

"Pardon my ignorance, Elders", Hades said, "but how so?"

"There are no secrets kept from us", a male voice spoke. "Do not think to indulge in your games".

Hades bowed his head in a show of apology. "I beg your forgiveness", he murmured, though his lips remained curved.

"You have disrupted our plans, Hades. You have upset the balance".

"You should not have raised Medusa", another female voice spoke.

"But surely I am maintaining the balance?" Hades said. "I have reinstated the governess of Darkness to her rightful place".

"To raise her was not your place. Her time was at an end".

"Well", Hades allowed, "a minor inconvenience I am sure…"

"We have warned you before, Hades", a stern male voice washed over him. "The balance is not to be trifled with".

"I assure you, Elders", Hades said smoothly, "I have no intention of – "

"You do not understand the delicacy of the balance", a powerful female voice cut through him. "You have reached too far this time".

"Too far", Hades said, settling into his seat. "So you have allowed me leeway in the past?"

"It is well and good that you have hidden yourself away in this manner, Hades", the first female voice spoke again.

Hades, who had formed a steeple of his fingers before his face, paused as he looked over his hands. There was a deeper meaning beneath the words of the Elder, and something within him drew forth an ominous caution that narrowed his eyes and sharpened his senses.

"What are you saying?"

"You have certainly reinstated Medusa to her place as Goddess of Darkness, and then you hid yourself from her gaze, forfeiting your place as the Lord of the Underworld".

A long silence stretched between them. The Elder's words settled heavily upon the atmosphere, and Hades remained very still, neither blinking nor breathing. And then suddenly, he shot forwards, vacating his seat in an instant. His outstretched hand met with a solid, invisible barrier. Hades turned on the spot, his eyes darting from side to side as his lips curled into a snarl.

"Medusa has taken your place, Hades. There is no requirement for two governors of the Underworld".

"You would seal me away?" Hades said with fire in his voice.

"You were warned!" the Elders spoke as one, and their anger was very much apparent. Their collective voice shook the walls of Hades' prison and vibrated through him, rattling the core of his being.

After resurrecting the Goddess, Hades had indeed hidden himself away, carving for himself a pocket of reality within which he had dwelt since the moment Medusa had opened her eyes and drawn her first breath. He was all but undetectable by the Goddess, and he had assured that she would have no memory of the manner in which she had been raised. For the duration of his grand design he had intended to remain here. However, it now seemed that his term had been lengthened indefinitely.

Hades reeled himself in as he made to return to his seat; it would be unwise to argue with the Elders.

"You will be released from your cage when the balance demands it", an Elder informed him. "Not before".

"The balance above all else is not to be trifled with", another said. "You have paid the price".

Hades turned and sat, though he did not recline against the comfort of the seat. He pressed his fingers together once more, eyes narrowed and dark as he looked over the peak of his digits. He felt the heavy, oppressively powerful presence of the Elders begin to wane and it was a long moment afterwards before he moved again.

Roughly, he drew his hand to the bowl upon the pedestal at his side. A snarl escaped his lips as he conjured up a number of scenes, each familiar but yet subtly different given his unexpected new predicament. Anger flashed through him then, and he lifted his hand in preparation to strike the bowl from its stand –

But then he lowered it. He was, after all, a God. The true Lord of the Underworld.

What irked him truly was the condescending bluntness of the Elders, more so than the fact that he had been sealed away in a prison he had essentially created for himself. The disparity in power between them was something he was acutely aware of – even when the Elders existed in a non-physical form. It unsettled him. He loathed their existence.

Nevertheless, he was confident in his plans, and he was capable of patience. Lowering his hand more gently to the rim of the bowl this time, Hades stirred its surface once again.

* * *

**A/N: **This chapter received the biggest overhaul of the original four I had posted up. The original was...well, after taking a good look at it, I realised it was pretty bad. I hope this version does more justice to Phosphora in particular. With that said, thanks to all for reviews thus far. If you have the time, let me know what you think of this story. I hope you're all enjoying it, but if not, feel free to tell me why :)


	5. Chapter 5

_Medusa cast her shadow over the reflecting pool as she peered into its depths, her hands gripping the patterned edge of the large bowl. Upon the surface of the water within it, Medusa looked down upon the earth below, the realm of Man. The voice of her faithful followers reached her ear swiftly, a beautiful and melodic sound that served to soothe her spirit as Man worshipped her. But there was another sound at the edge of her perception that irked her. The name of another was chanted with far more volume, and it was not long before her sister's worshippers all but drowned out her own._

_Medusa drew back her sight a little, for she had delved deep into a small Temple dedicated to her. The few within it had gathered about an altar, seated upon their knees as the incense burning candles cast a warm glow upon their faces. Expanding her sight, Medusa looked upon the vast city, its buildings packed tightly together and its streets bustling with people and domesticated animals. Many of its features were non-descript, but Medusa's eye was drawn easily to the prominent roof of one of her sister's many Temples._

_Something stirred within her as she narrowed her sight and focused on the Temple, drawing close to it and then sinking discreetly through its walls. Its rooms were large and finely furnished, and upon clean, decorated floors a large number of followers bowed themselves before an elaborate altar. At either end of it, a statue of the Goddess of Light resided, her left hand bearing a spherical shield whilst the right lifted her staff towards the Temple ceiling. The sapphire at its head sparkled._

_The name of her sister fell from a myriad of lips in a passionate song of worship, and this song did little to soothe Medusa. She could take little of it, and in a flash of jealous anger turned her sight away and drew back unto herself. Before she returned fully however, her ear caught the quiet supplications of a faithful daughter tucked away in the corners of the city, and her heart was moved. She bestowed upon her a precious blessing: the fleeting gift of her presence. Her daughter looked up as the wind was stirred unusually about her, and her eyes lit up before she threw her face to the ground and uttered Medusa's name time and again._

_When Medusa drew her consciousness from the realm far below, she lifted her head to find her sister standing at the opposite side of the bowl._

_"Palutena", she greeted after a moment of silence. Her sister looked up from the reflecting pool and smiled easily, as though nothing was awry. Medusa drew a smile to her own lips for the sake of politeness, though she found it difficult to cultivate the light in her eye that rose so naturally to Palutena's._

_"I thought I might check up on them", Palutena said in a teasing tone as she gestured towards the pool. "You are much more dutiful than I, Medusa"._

_"Well, I would suppose that it is more trying duty for you", Medusa said. "You have so many to attend to, after all"._

_Palutena laughed and Medusa suppressed the emotion that rose to her eyes as her sister quipped and shook her head before leaning over the pool and peering into its depths. She lingered for a moment, one hand ghosting along the edge of the grand stone bowl, as she caught the reflection of herself and her sister. Where Palutena's hair was long and reached down far past her back, Medusa's barely reached beyond her shoulders. Where her sister's eyes were wide and bright, her own were dark and brooding. In contrast, her skin was pale, as though her body had been crafted from the flesh of the moon._

_She turned away from the pool as Palutena began to hum to herself, allowing her lips to curl briefly before catching herself. Neither of them knew a time where the other did not exist. They had been born at each other's side and they had lived since at each other's side, purposed by the Elders to govern Light and Darkness. Theirs was a bond that was unique amongst the pantheon, and despite the thoughts that had begun to grow heavy and dark upon her heart, Medusa could not deny Palutena as her sister._

**xXx**

She stalked down the corridor towards the lone, armoured guard. Aside from moving quickly to slot a key into its requisite lock, it stood dutifully still, a pronged spear clutched in the grasp of its right hand. All was quiet save for the sharp rhythm of Medusa's staff striking the ground in time with her stride. She had not come to visit her sister since her terrible screams had echoed through the corridor, seeping through the walls like poisonous ooze. She drew level with the door to the prison and the guard saluted her, stamping the butt of its spear to the ground.

"Your Majesty".

She did not deign to speak as she pushed open the heavy door, its hinges whining in protest. The darkness of the cold room within welcomed her, swallowing the rays of light that crept in from the corridor without. She slipped inside silently, though the door struck up a pained complaint as she pushed it shut behind her.

She turned her head as she stepped further into the room, the snakes atop her head hissing softly as her eyes fell upon her sister. Her brow lifted in surprise when she immediately saw that Palutena lay strewn across the floor of her cell.

The broken links of chain hung from the walls, their brackets hanging from the brick by a mere thread, and the remainder of the chain clung to the fallen Goddess' wrist. Her hair was tousled and matted with dirt, her once white dress stained by the filth of the cell. Emerald eyes were held open, though they lacked focus, seeming to look beyond Medusa. Her dry, cracked lips moved soundlessly. There was no evidence of the presence of the shadow Medusa had unleashed upon her sister, but the Goddess did not worry.

She approached the bars of the cell slowly, almost carefully. "Sister, how do you fare?"

It was a long moment before Palutena's eyes regained their focus and turned upwards to seek the source of Medusa's voice. She trembled as though deathly cold and Medusa saw the faint darkness of the shadow behind Palutena's gaze.

"Medusa…" Palutena croaked.

The Goddess drew a smirk to her lips. "It has kept you company then? I am a good host, wouldn't you agree?"

"Medusa…" Her sister barely managed to push her name beyond her lips, and she shuddered as though with the effort.

Medusa's smirk faded as she looked down upon Palutena. What she had wrought her upon was something cruel, a punishment she had devised and fostered during the years of her clutches in death. Despite everything, she still felt the spark of compassion for her sister.

Medusa hissed as she turned her face aside, cursing her weakness. Palutena deserved every scrap of punishment Medusa desired to wreak upon her; she deserved the suffering and pain that had torn those screams from her throat and driven her to tear herself from the bonds of her chains. It had been a mistake to come here, it only served to remind her that she was torturing her sister, the being that was an intrinsic and inseparable part of her. If she remained any longer, Palutena would perhaps know her mercy. And so she retreated into the darkness of the room, the whine of its door signalling her exit.

Palutena lay there, as still as death. She was barely aware of her surroundings, and her body felt alien to her, disconnected from her consciousness. She retained her mind – barely. It was a constant battle, a ceaseless struggle against the intruding shadow that had settled behind her eyes and gnawed hungrily at the edges of her consciousness. Its very substance harrowed her, for the moment it had fallen upon her, she had understood it.

It was sorrow and grief and hatred, and she recognized it. She knew its source in a moment. It was a heavy and almost unbearable presence upon her and she understood that Medusa had indeed crafted it specifically to make her suffer. It knew her mind almost intimately, where to poke and twist and dig as she expended all her mental and emotional strength to try and banish it from her depths. It clung to her with fierce hooks, snarling at her with a voice she had never thought to hear again.

That was perhaps the worst part of it: that voice, the voice of her beloved angel. It was his voice, but the words that issued from his bodiless lips she knew not to be his. Medusa had constructed her punishment to perfection; Pit was merely the mouthpiece for the sorrow and grief and hatred of the countless souls from which the shadow had been formed. He hissed continuously in her ear. He cursed her and screamed in rage when she fought to push the shadow from her mind.

Palutena had cried all her tears away; it cut so deeply to hear the hateful words issued forth in his voice. She had tried to reach into the depths of the shadow to wrest Pit's soul from its core, but it was buried far too deep and she lacked the understanding of soulcraft that her sister had gained by becoming Queen of the Underworld.

"I will make you suffer, as we suffered…"

It was impossible to ignore when it came forth from so deep within her, and its tirade was endless. Perhaps had it not been Pit who spoke, she may have been able to endure it. She struggled to work the muscles of her throat, slowly and painfully swallowing as she gained control of her lips.

"Pit…Pit, I beg you…be silent".

The shadow growled at her insolence and twisted its hooks. Palutena whimpered softly and then uttered a pained cry as the shadow roughly clawed through her mind, forcing a memory before her eyes.

**xXx**

_It had been brewing for some time; Palutena had felt it not only amongst her followers, but within the hearts of humankind as a whole. She had foolishly believed that they would not eventually act upon their belief. She should have known that humans were quick to reach for iron and steel to wage war upon each other. It was her duty to prevent that, but she had placed far too much trust in the wisdom of Man._

_They feared the darkness, and had long since grown to associate it with violence, cruelty and pain. The thieves walked the streets boldly when darkness fell upon the city, and the night served to reveal the cesspit that lay in wait beneath the city's surface, rapists and murderers wreaking their unique brand of evil upon the innocent and unsuspecting. Humankind saw that nothing but ill could come of the darkness, that the night brought them nothing but fear and suffering. In the light of the day, they could be productive; in the light of the day, they could feed their families, build their homes and further their knowledge._

_She upbraided herself then, for she had seen it – and yet she had ignored it. Her followers far outnumbered her sister's; the Temples built in her name were far grander and the people did not fear to walk the streets and proclaim of her to those around them. Those who chose to take Medusa as their deity also took upon themselves a stigma; they were cursed in the streets and often discriminated against. Her sister's followers had grown secretive over time in response to such treatment, and few Temples dedicated to her stood proudly within the cities._

_She knew, however, why she had been inclined to turn her eye and ear away from the truth. The numbers of her followers secured for her a heady volume of worship, and as Man lifted their voice to her, she was infused with a strength that could be found nowhere else. The process in itself was pleasurable beyond description, and Palutena walked daily with this energy bubbling gently beneath the surface of her skin. To reprimand her followers would surely lead to discontent among them – despite how loyally they seemed to worship her._

_ In return for their worship, the Gods were required to bestow their blessing upon Man. However, their blessing was a finite resource, one that gained its measure from the worship given unto the respective deity. It enabled them to wipe an affliction from the body of a follower, or to alter the course of an individual's life so that prosperity and good tidings would meet with them. The Gods were far from powerless without the worship of Man, but to have it bestowed upon them a gradually notable strength. As it were, Palutena was more powerful than her sister, and at that moment it was crucial that was so._

_They had both been standing at the reflecting pool's edge, peering into its depths to look upon the world below when the attacks had begun. Shock had taken a hold of them both and they could only merely look on, tightly clutching the decorated edge of the stone bowl. Men and women stormed down the streets towards the few Temples dedicated to the Goddess of Darkness, many among the throng lifting their voices in righteous shouts to Palutena. The crowd seemed to be thickening with every passing moment and its roar shook the city._

_Palutena heard the voice of her sister as she desperately commanded the few who dwelt within her Temples to flee. They remained immobile for long, precious moments, shocked at having heard the voice of their Goddess so suddenly and clearly, and overwhelmed by the panic and urgency in her tone. By the time they had regained their senses enough to start moving, the crowds had reached the doors of the Temples. _

_Palutena felt Medusa's anguish as they broke through the feeble restraints her followers had hastened to erect. The crowd pressed into the Temples' innards and proceeded to tear the scared place to pieces. Her followers were not spared. Blood splattered the altars, and the flames of the incense candles were used to set the place alight. The righteous, victorious cry of Palutena's followers rose up to the heavens._

_The Goddess looked up as her sister rose stiffly, and it occurred to her belatedly that Medusa had not made a sound since the Temples' doors had been breached. The look on her sister's face worried her; her brow was drawn tight and her eyes were narrowed. The muscles in her jaw flexed as her lips peeled apart from one another and revealed bared teeth. Silently, she turned away from the reflecting pool and turned towards another artefact within the room. _

_Palutena's worry greatened and she drew herself up; numerous artefacts placed throughout the room held within shallow bowls replicas of the great cities that stood around the world of Man. Medusa brought herself before the one that displayed the city within which chaos currently ensued. _

_Palutena launched herself forwards as her sister lifted a clawed hand and an enraged shriek burst from her lips. Black fire swept through the air as Palutena caught Medusa's wrist and pulled her arm aside._

_"No! Sister, you cannot!"_

_"Release me!" Medusa demanded, attempting to wrest her arm from Palutena's grip._

_The Goddesses tussled violently, and Palutena fought to keep herself between her sister and the city replica at her back. She clamped her hand around Medusa's wrist while the other locked itself with Medusa's. Her sister snarled fiercely as she tried to tear herself from Palutena's grip, throwing her to either side in attempts to get at the city beyond her. All the while, Palutena begged her sister to stop, promising her that she would deal with the humans herself. She could see the dark clouds of grief in Medusa's eyes and it brought her to the realisation of how deeply her sister had cared for her followers. At the same time, it allowed her to appreciate just how harshly Medusa would exact her punishment if she did not stop her._

_As sisters, and as rulers of perfectly opposite powers, Palutena and Medusa were equal, and perhaps the struggle would have pressed on for much longer had Palutena not called upon her reserves of strength. With them, she forced her sister to give ground until she wrestled her out of the room itself. With a burst of strength, she cast Medusa roughly to the ground and pivoted swiftly, pulling the rooms doors shut and sealing them with her power. She drew a protective shield about herself almost instinctively as she turned back to face her sister._

_Medusa did not attack, though the dark fires in her eyes indicated that she was all but considering it while fighting to hold herself back. She picked herself up from off the ground._

_"Were you not my sister…" the Goddess snarled._

_"Medusa, you cannot strike down the humans in anger. Please", she begged, "let me deal with them"._

_"They have slaughtered my followers in your name", Medusa growled roughly._

_"I will deal with them", Palutena said yet again. "Medusa, I...I'm sorry"._

_Medusa's eyes flashed. "You are not sorry, Palutena. You are blinded by the worship of your followers and made deaf by their song. Your followers have despised and abused mine for years, and you have done nothing! You are not sorry, sister. Not yet"._

_"I will deal with them", Palutena promised, but Medusa had already turned on her heel and begun to walk away. The Goddess waited until her sister was beyond sight before she turned back to the doors, strengthening and adjusting the seal upon it. It would allow her to move through it into the room beyond, but would repel Medusa. _

_She loved her sister, truly, but she also had a duty imposed upon her. The look in her sister's eyes indicated plainly how hurt she had been by the attacks upon her followers, and her parting words did little to reassure Palutena that Medusa had any intention of standing back to allow her to make good on her promise. _

_The seal she had placed upon the door was a powerful one, imbued with the strength she had taken from her follower's worship, but even then, she doubted. As she worked, she wondered just what she was going to do._


	6. Chapter 6

The sky burned overhead, a stretching expanse laced with trails of fire. Packs of Monoeye occasionally flew by, coming and going as they pleased until a voice of authority pulled them down. Today, that voice would belong to the realm's Queen, Medusa. She stood with staff in hand, a scrutinizing gaze levelled at the ranks that stood perfectly still in her presence as though crafted of stone.

They were organized neatly, faultless rows of countless soldiers stretching far across the courtyard, and standing in deep columns that all but consumed the length of the large rectangular space. Medusa turned and walked before the line established by the first row, her eyes carefully appraising the specimens before her. They were relatively new to her gaze, and a completely new addition to the Underworld army. She had crafted them painstakingly from the embittered souls of the beings who had become and would always be the focus of her hatred.

The first of their kind had been the creature Gaol, and she had used it as a template for those who stood before her now, though in appearance they somewhat lacked the sheer ferocity that Goal's possessed. Their armour was as black as night, streaked with patterns of fire and blood. From beneath a wickedly carved helm, only the vivid scarlet of glowing, dead eyes that would grasp those of the living in a fatal embrace was visible. That suited Medusa perfectly, it would not do for her to merely glance upon these creatures and have her rage kindled at every moment.

She would have much preferred to fill the suits of fearsome armour with shades, but her earlier experimentation with them had shown that the shadow of a human was of far feebler substance than flesh. Beneath the black sheets of metal then was encased the form of a human, cold in pseudo-death. Though she had known her purpose when she had drawn forth souls with which to craft them, a streak of anger had persisted at the surface of her thoughts when she clothed them in flesh and stood them before her for appraisal.

"You", Medusa pointed as she came to a standstill. "Tell me your name".

"I have no name, Majesty", the creature replied in an instant, its voice subtly distorted by the power of the energies flowing through its being.

"You", Medusa pointed to another.

"I have no name, Majesty".

"What is your purpose?" she asked yet another.

"To serve, Majesty", came the distorted, feminine reply. "Without question".

"With whom does your loyalty lie?"

"With you, Majesty", it answered at once.

Medusa indicated to two of those she had spoken to. "Step forward".

They did as they were bid immediately, stepping forwards in a single powerful and synchronised stride and clicking their heels together as they stood awaiting her next command.

"There are no bonds between you", she told them, "no likeness, save for your service to me. Face each other".

They sprang forward when bidden, seeking to pierce through the armour of the other with invisibly sharp spears and hoisting shields to turn aside the other's attack. It ended swiftly and the nameless victor turned back to Medusa in silence, planting their blood-tipped spear to the ground. She commanded it to retake its place in the ranks as the darkness of a particularly large shadow enveloped her own.

"They are marvellously loyal, wouldn't you say, my Lady?"

"Delightfully quick to action, Mistress".

"Responsive to any and all orders! I do say you have outdone yourself, Your Majesty".

Each of the three voices boomed out across the courtyard, intermingling with one another into a noise pre-empting a familiar din as not one of the Hewdraw heads allowed his brother to finish before speaking.

"This is the full regiment?" Medusa asked as she continued walking.

"Yes, Mistress –"

"Most of them, Your Majesty –"

"No, fool. Forgive him, my Lady, this is most certainly the full regiment".

Medusa ignored the argument that sparked almost immediately between the heads. Their voices carried far across the courtyard and the shadow they cast over Medusa and armoured creatures jerked back and forth even as they followed in the trail of her own steps.

"The second regiment?"

The Hewdraw heads, despite the volume of their intermingled voices, fell silent the moment Medusa began to speak.

"Without these walls, Mistress, awaiting your inspection".

"Good. I trust that they are armed and armoured".

"Yes, my Lady".

"Though the armoury was irritatingly sluggish to complete the order, Your Majesty".

"All is well and fair now, isn't it?"

"How many?" Medusa interrupted them.

"A thousand, Mistress".

"In both regiments, my Lady".

"Though a number of them required a severe whipping into shape, Your Majesty".

"Either way, they are here", Medusa said. "And I trust that you recall the strategy we have discussed".

"Of course, my Lady".

"Without question, Your Majesty".

"Well…actually, I seem to have misplaced certain details…Mistress".

"You incompetent fool", cursed one of the heads.

"Your stupidity knows no bounds".

"I do most of thinking for all three of us!"

"If by 'most' you mean laughably little – "

"That goes without saying".

"Now just you wait one moment - !"

"Hewdraw", Medusa said patiently as she reached the end of the row, her eyes holding and piercing deep into the red gaze of the creature before her. "Enough".

"Of course", they said solemnly, and they did not speak again as Medusa turned away from the armoured creature and retraced her steps. Gaol stood waiting, its arms clasped behind a broad back. The Hewdraw followed in her wake; it had always fascinated her that she held patience for the beast's nonsensical chatter. She would tolerate it from no other. Perhaps she simply understood that the Hewdraw's nature was the Hewdraw's nature. She could no more deny it than deny her own, curse-afflicted as she was.

She drew level with Gaol, the hem of its crimson cloak lifted by a quiet wind as she turned back to face the ranks. Upon her return to her seat in the Underworld, she had immediately resolved to craft an army that was worthy of her intent to grace the world of Man with chaos. She had cast her eye over the creatures that had occupied her previous army and her lips had curled in disgust.

They were weak and pathetic, falling like rain before the accursed angel's blade as though he had merely wished death upon them. They would not serve her purpose now. They did not deserve the honour, truly. She would only make use of them for the time being until she had built up the numbers of her newest creations.

"Hewdraw", she said, turning to the creature, "you are to take these Reavers and proceed to Gaol's castle. From there, you will march towards the northern city and regroup with the forces there. From there, march east. Tear down all that stands, and burn the Temples of the Goddess of Light to ash".

"It will be done", the Hewdraw heads answered as one.

"Of course", Medusa said, turning her eyes slowly to hold each of theirs. "You will not fail me".

"No, Mistress".

"Never, my Lady".

"Our victory is certain, Your Majesty".

"Let it be so. Gaol", she turned as spoke, starting towards the archway that would lead her from the courtyard.

"The second regiment of Reavers will be transported to your castle once Hewdraw has passed beyond the gates. You are to remain here, however. The Gatekeeper has been charged with the defence of the castle in your stead".

Gaol turned sharply on its heel and remained three paces behind Medusa's shoulder as she made for the archway. "If I may ask, Majesty: to what purpose?"

"I am making a visit to my once home", Medusa answered shortly. "Your responsibility now is this fortress. Post Twinbellows at the gates immediately".

"It will be done", Gaol echoed the Hewdraw trailing behind it.

"Be ready to report to me at a moment's notice", Medusa commanded both them. They responded in the affirmative – the Hewdraw's triply concrete – as she passed beneath the archway.

**xXx**

Ivorie led Phosphora through the long, narrow corridors of the Temple, the pair making headway through the numerous angels that occupied them. Phosphora's nostrils twitched as she picked up the smell of warm, scented water yet again; it seemed there were hot springs built into every crevice of the vast Temple. No doubt those who adored the relaxation the springs offered were spoilt for choice. Pit had been such a one, she recalled.

They turned another corner, and an archway at the end of the corridor gave way to the outside world, golden light filtering down into the Temple as one's eye was graced with the edge of the gardens. Ivorie led her companion with purpose towards the exit. When they finally stepped out into the light of the day, a trio of floating islands came fully into view. Phosphora took briefly to the air and followed Ivorie to the central platform. They found themselves not alone, though the presence of other angels was sparse, most merely attending to the needs of the garden.

"Here", Ivorie spoke. "It was here".

Phosphora cast her eyes about, but could find no trace of the battle that was said to have occurred here, or of the Goddess of Darkness who had poisoned the grounds around them with death. Of course, truly she did not expect to. Viridi had stood where she now did several days before she had joined the Goddess in Skyworld, and the mere influence of her presence was spectacular.

"Lady Viridi transformed this garden", Ivorie remarked. "It was beautiful before, but now…now she has brought it to life".

"She generally has that effect", Phosphora said with a small smile.

Ivorie looked down at her sandal clad feet. "I did not think life would return to this place. Perhaps, Lady Viridi could also have returned his life, if he had remained here".

Phosphora's smile dipped a little; the angel had made more than one mention of this and despite her attempts to cheer Ivorie, she was quick to sink back into her melancholy. If Phosphora had not noted the angel's behaviour around Pit during her visits to Skyworld, it would certainly draw her suspicions now. She would wonder why Ivorie seemed to have been hit so hard by the angel's death.

She had confessed it to neither of them, but through her actions and the indirectness of her words, Phosphora had been able to deduce that Ivorie held feelings in her heart for Pit. She did not wish to insult her friend's memory, but Phosphora allowed that Pit wasn't necessarily gifted with the same acuity of mind as herself. Ivorie had made the unfortunate mistake of waiting for too long, and now she mourned not only the loss of Pit's life but her own failure to act upon her feelings. It was difficult to comfort her, and at times difficult to be around her.

Phosphora had loved Pit dearly, but as nothing more than a friend. She had no desire for a relationship of a more intimate degree. Her memories of him were joyous and pleasant, but it was easy for Ivorie's sadness to cast a gloom over them, to make her wonder if Pit had indeed known of the angel's feelings. Sometimes it made her wonder if he had not received them because his own heart was set on another. It cast a shadow of ambiguity over their relationship that hung at the edge of her mind.

But there was little to do about it, except for her to turn both of their minds to the more pressing matters at hand. Phosphora had asked Ivorie to give her a tour of the Temple, so that she could assess its value, its tactical advantages and disadvantages. Viridi was certain that Medusa would make her move on Skyworld soon, and so she was tasked to prepare its defence.

As one of Palutena's royal guard, Ivorie would know areas of the Temple that other angels were perhaps not privy to, especially considering her rank. In Pit's absence, she had been raised to the position of captain, though the purpose of the royal guard was somewhat uncertain at the present moment, for Viridi did not request their presence around her.

Phosphora had initially sought to make use of them by posting them in positions of authority in the fighting force she intended to forge of the Skyworld denizens. It had turned out however, that Palutena's royal guard was not necessarily appointed in the interest of her protection.

"The majority of our number are not truly built to fight", Ivorie had admitted when Phosphora had presented this idea to her.

"You form a royal guard. Of course you are built to fight".

Ivorie shook her head. "In more recent times, Lady Palutena's guard was meant merely for the sake of decoration".

Phosphora raised her brow at this. "In more recent times? So, before then…?"

"Lady Palutena and Medusa used to frequently hold tournaments between themselves. Three able-bodied angels would be chosen to fight under the banner of one of the Goddesses, and then from the three that emerged victorious, the respective Goddess would pick one from the number who impressed her eye most. That angel would be granted the honour of spending a day at the Goddess' right hand. In fact, that was how Lady Palutena initially met Pit".

This had all but fascinated Phosphora; she had never thought to ask the angel how exactly he had come to be his Goddess' most favoured. It often seemed as though he had simply been born into her favour, such was the nature of their relationship.

"But surely the Goddess did not simply pluck you from the streets and set you at her side".

"There are a number of us who can actually wield the weapons we bear with competence", Ivorie said. "In truth though, my Lady never did require a personal guard".

"Except for twenty five years ago", Phosphora had said. "Except for now".

"Yes", Ivorie had agreed quietly.

With that, Phosphora began to understand why it was the Goddess of Light had frequently sent out Pit alone into situations that almost certainly would have killed him were it not for his brilliant streak of luck and skill with a blade and bow. Palutena did not understand battle as did Phosphora, and she did not truly know war like Viridi. Palutena would set Pit in command over the fighting force of Skyworld because she saw that he possessed the skills for combat she sorely lacked. She could guide his blade with her wisdom, and in tandem with her in this manner, Pit had forged himself into a fearsome opponent for a single foe or a great number.

"Despite her power, Lady Viridi is not gifted in soulcraft", Phosphora reminded Ivorie gently. The angel did not reply, or rather was not given the moment in which to do so for before she could speak another voice rang out across the gardens.

"Lady Phosphora!"

She and Ivorie turned. An angel emerged from the Temple, his face lined with concern as he hurriedly approached them.

"Just Phosphora", she reiterated wearily to the angel when he came within earshot.

"Ah, my apologies, La – Phosphora", he quickly and evidently with some difficulty corrected himself.

"What is it?"

"Lady Viridi has requested your presence immediately", he reported. "The Underworld is launching another attack".

It would have been better for him to not have revealed that information right where they stood, but Phosphora could afford no time to worry about it. She allowed the messenger to lead the way, though eventually she ended up jogging passed him as they turned the corridor that lead to the Temple's observational room. The 'room' was unconventional in its appearance; when Phosphora stepped into it, it was though she had stepped outside once more.

Small raised hills were punctuated between by thin roads of stone and earth winding through a natural carpet of grass. A number of pedestals were studded along the length of the room, atop each of them perched a wide bowl that contained miniature scale cities and large towns. Phosphora expectedly found Viridi at the centre of the room, standing at the edge of large, patterned bowl and leaning forward to peer into its contents. Shimmering light danced across her cheeks as intensely focused eyes gazed deep into the reflecting pool.

"Lady Viridi", Phosphora announced herself. The Goddess looked up as she approached.

"What is the situation?"

Viridi beckoned her to the edge of the bowl. She stood close and looked down into the waters of the pool, at first seeing nothing more than the undulating reflection of the ceiling above before something stirred them and gradually, the world below came into focus. Her eyes took on the intensity of her Goddess' as she was granted the view of a large, fearsome castle whose stone walls seemed to drip with darkness. A human army had gathered before it, locked in fierce combat with the hordes of the Underworld.

"Where is this?" Phosphora asked, already assessing the situation at hand and noting that the Underworld's unrivalled air superiority was costing the human army severely. She scoured the ranks carefully and spotted the units of archers dotted amongst them. Their numbers were far from enough and their aim wild as the fury of battle washed over them.

"I've been keeping an eye on this castle", Viridi told her. "The humans' army has been marching towards it for the last two weeks, and they have been engaged with the Underworld forces for a day. But something is amiss here".

Viridi gestured towards the Underworld forces. "Look: their numbers are far beyond what could reasonably be contained within that castle. I cannot tell how Medusa is transporting such forces to and from Overworld. But, right now there are more pressing matters".

Phosphora glanced up at the Goddess. "There's something else?"

Viridi nodded, touching a fingertip to the surface of the pool. "There appear to be two armies, and for the time being, we will have to remove our focus from this one".

The waters rippled and the image upon them changed, a murky palette of colours blurring together and slowly reforming into a new image. Phosphora watched as the second of the Underworld's armies kicked up the dust of a well-worn road, though unlike the first, this one gave her reason to pause as she cast her sharp eye over them.

"My Lady, unless I am mistaken, those are human soldiers", Phosphora said quietly.

They were gathered at the centre of the army's number, spears grasped in one hand whilst a large oblong shield was hefted in the other. Unlike the multitude of Underworld creatures around them, these marched with purpose and order, their strides taken in perfect unison.

"I was under the impression that Medusa despised them", Phosphora said as Viridi remained silent.

"I can only assume there is more at work here", the Goddess said eventually. "I think it best not to waste our time questioning their origin".

"How is it that the human army did not encounter this one?"

"The humans marched from the east towards that castle; their paths would not have converged".

A large shadow was cast over the marching army before Phosphora could think to speak another word, and in the next moment a vast form flew over them, its purple hide a stark colour against the dark armour of the strange soldiers below it.

"I have no idea", Viridi answered pre-emptively.

She touched the surface of the pool once more, and Phosphora reeled as her sight was suddenly drawn backwards, expanding outwards so that she could now see vastly more of the army and its surroundings.

"My apologies", Viridi said as Phosphora swayed. The Goddess reached out, clasping a hand around her wrist. Steadied, Phosphora leaned forwards once more and took stock of the image before her. Viridi pointed to the small form of the city that was now in view.

"The army is about a day away", she said. "In accordance with my agreement with Palutena, I'm required to protect these creatures".

She stood up, glancing one more time at the pool before moving over towards one of the other pedestals. Phosphora followed in her wake, standing at the Goddess' shoulder as she looked over the model of the city threatened by the Underworld forces.

"I hope they are competent enough to hold until you get there", Viridi said. "Assuming they haven't emptied their walls already".

"It should take at least two days to gather our forces, but that will mean leaving Skyworld weakened as well as our own realm".

Viridi waved a hand dismissively. "Cragalanche will be able to hold in the rare event that the Forest is discovered, and I will be able to defend Skyworld. In the case of the former, you are to withdraw your forces to our realm".

"Understood, my Lady".

The Goddess drummed her fingers at the edge of the bowl for a moment. "I did not think Medusa would delay in seeking to retake Skyworld. I had counted on it".

"We could direct our forces from here", Phosphora said after a moment, sensing Viridi's underlying meaning and offering her own just as subtly.

Viridi shook her head. "I want that Underworld army crushed. I would prefer Medusa's attention to be focused solely in one direction, and if she does not already know that I have taken Skyworld's seat, she will soon enough".

"You want her to pledge her full strength against you", Phosphora said.

"Sooner rather than later", Viridi said. "She has already spent too long in the Underworld; her strength is more than replenished".

"If it were it possible, I would suggest a full-scale attack on the Underworld", Phosphora said. "It is likely Lady Palutena is being kept there".

"I would agree with you", Viridi said as she turned away from the pedestal. "The Underworld is closed to all but its master, however."

The Goddess sighed as she briefly closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"There is nothing we can do about it at present. Ready yourself, Phosphora. I don't think Palutena would thank us were she to return to find her precious lands in ruin".

Phosphora inclined her head respectfully to Viridi before turning on her heel and making for the doors.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: And so, upon reaching roughly the halfway point of this story, I do believe it is time to kick things up a notch. Well, a bit more than a notch considering who is involved :P Thanks again for the reviews and such thus far, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

Gaol stood just behind her shoulder as she watched the army march through the gate, the polished black armour of the Reavers distinct amongst the hordes of staple Underworld creatures that, for the time being, made up the majority of Medusa's fighting force. The gate itself was a vast object, a perfect ring of metal anchored to the ground by two blocks of stone, allowing its edge to hover moments from the floor of the hall. Within the ring, a purple vortex of energy swirled ceaselessly, streaks of white spiralling from its centre in a hypnotic pattern as the hall was filled with the rumbling hum of power.

Medusa remained until the last of the army stepped into the portal, her eyes falling hard and dangerous upon the stragglers whose pace all but quickened as they fled towards the gate. Once only herself and Gaol at her shoulder remained, Medusa pointed her staff towards the spiralling vortex, purple strands of energy drawn swiftly from its centre as the snake coiled around the head of the staff parted its jaws wide and seemed to inhale the portal. The hum of power within the hall lessened gradually until silence fell upon the two beings within it. Medusa turned away, the click of her staff upon the ground echoing in her wake.

The distorted voice of Gaol reached her ear. "Majesty, if I may ask a question".

"Speak", Medusa commanded as she walked. "Quickly".

"Majesty, I must ask why you have chosen this moment to take Skyworld's seat".

Medusa glanced aside with a narrowed gaze. "What are you talking about, Gaol?"

"When you incapacitated the Goddess of Light, why did you not claim Skyworld in the same breath?"

Medusa missed a beat in her sure stride as the question hit her, pausing in a rare moment of hesitance. Surely an answer lay at the forefront of her mind, waiting at the tip of her tongue, and she searched for it. She found nothing; Gaol pressed on.

"Majesty, Skyworld was almost certainly left in disarray by the removal of its Goddess. I must ask why you did not capitalise on that moment, rather than present its people the opportunity to regroup".

The question struck deep, and she had no answer for it. Search as she might, her mind offered her no words, no explanation. She remembered vividly the battle between herself and Palutena, and she remembered standing over her sister in victory. And then all was blank, there was no memory for her to call upon and all that she could summon before her mind's eye was the image of her casting the limp form of her sister into her prison.

"Majesty".

"It was part of the plan", Medusa spat out, cutting across Gaol.

"Majesty, forgive me but I do not see the reasoning behind it".

"Insolent creature", Medusa hissed. She stopped and whirled around to face Gaol, her eyes narrow and dangerous. Gaol fell to its knee in a swift and practised motion, its great head bowed low.

"Forgive me, Majesty. I have erred. I only seek to see the success of your plans".

"Do not question me again", Medusa warned softly. "Skyworld will have fallen to chaos without its precious Goddess at its seat. I will claim it in a moment".

"Of course, Majesty", Gaol said, its voice reverberating through Medusa's body.

She glared down at the creature for a moment, a fire stirring within her as she pictured the feeble frame that resided within the fearsome suit of armour. She banked the heat of the flames of her hatred carefully, allowing it to purge the doubt and disquiet from the forefront of her mind. With that, she turned on her heel, hearing the scrape of metal upon the ground as Gaol rose to its feet when a reasonable distance separated them. Her stride was strong as she left the hall, strong but not sure. Something was indeed amiss, and she could not place it.

Sensing her discontent, the snakes atop her head swayed and hissed. Her fingers curled tightly around her staff as it clicked in time with her stride. Gaol's piercing questions still whispered at the corners of her mind, and a low growl of frustration left her lips as she waded through her memories and could not find the one she sought most.

It was all she could do to maintain control of her voice; it would not do to scream in rage with Gaol in her hearing. Instead, she resolved to claim Skyworld with an iron hand. She would fasten a grip about its throat and drive the entire realm to its knees. She would hear her name worshipped in fear and trembling, and for the moment that thought served to appease her.

**xXx**

_The Goddess passed through the doors, her eyes hard as she looked up towards the occupied seats of the throne room. At her back, several creatures bore upon their shoulders the limp form of an armoured woman. A tense silence stretched, punctuated only by footsteps and the click of the Goddess' staff upon the floor as she approached. Medusa gazed hard at the seemingly young deity, her eyes narrowed and intense. The corner of her lip curled as the Goddess fell still and the creatures at her back moved around her, carefully laying their burden down before her onto the bed of grass that had inexplicably pushed its way up from beneath the stone floor._

_She was brazen to come here, Medusa had told Palutena, more still for what she had just done in boldly flaunting her power at the centre of their hall. Medusa would not deign to allow the Goddess to enter their court, wanting to disallow her entrance into the realm altogether, but Palutena had insisted that they grant her an audience. And so here she was, the Goddess of Nature, standing before them and fixing them both with a gaze that barely hid the shadow of an intention to strike out at them. Medusa reasoned that her sister did not fully appreciate it, and so she kept her hands loose about the edge of her seat, prepared to strike out in an instant._

_The young woman at her feet bled her life onto the bed of grass the Goddess had made for her, and her face was pale, lips trembling. The silver of her armour had lost its sheen in the chaos of battle, and at her side a wide section had simply been blasted apart, the exposed flesh beneath splashed with scarlet. The Goddess' hand tightened around her staff, the flesh at her knuckles growing white._

_"You did this", she said, her voice low and cold._

_"You have nothing to say?" the Goddess spoke as the two before her remained quiet. "You cannot deny it; I saw your mark upon the weapon"._

_Again, neither of the seated Goddesses spoke. Medusa took her cue from her sister, who she conceded was far better with words. It took much to keep herself in check, however; the mere presence of the Goddess of Nature in their realm was an affront to her that she would not have tolerated were it not for the patient reasoning of her sister. The Goddess in question's lips curled as silence persisted to be the only response to her words._

_"How dare you interfere in my affairs", she said. At that, Medusa's hands clenched around the arms of her throne and she made to rise. Palutena's voice and glance stilled her, just._

_"We are the guardian of Man", she said. "We did as our duty dictated; you have gone much too far in this, Viridi"._

_"Ha!" the Goddess barked out her laughter. "It has taken you so long to act as your duty dictates"._

_Medusa's lips twisted at that, though it was the truth. Viridi, the Goddess of Nature, had waged her war against Man fiercely and mercilessly, and until now neither of Skyworld's Goddesses had stepped in to directly aid their charges. Neither of them had admitted it openly, despite their closeness; Viridi intimated them, not through her form but her power and authority._

_She was among the oldest of the pantheon, one of the first daughters of the Elders. Overworld in its entirety was her domain. Medusa and her sister were young in __comparison to the Goddess of Nature and set not only over the domains of Light and Darkness, but charged also with the guardianship of Man, a species that proved to be uncontestably troublesome. In their pursuit of knowledge and the innate drive within them to advance themselves, they had stepped upon the toes of Nature._

_It irked Medusa fiercely to harbour the feeling of intimidation within her heart, and she had begun to insist that she and Palutena rise up and fulfil their duty to humankind. Unlike her, her sister was an ever cautious being. Eventually however, she could not ignore the need to directly protect Man as Viridi gathered her armies and swept across the face of Overworld, seeking to wipe humankind wholly from existence. To their credit, Man had fought hard to stand their ground, but the force that opposed them was far greater than they could imagine._

_And so together, the Goddesses had forged a weapon. Medusa had crafted the bow, one that when gripped by the hands of the hero she and her sister would eventually appoint would strengthen his arm and point his aim true. Palutena had crafted the arrows to complement her sister's bow; they would fly straight and swift, and their tips had been saturated in the power of the Light she wielded. They gifted this weapon to Man, and humankind gathered its strength in what would most certainly be their final confrontation if they fell before Viridi's armies._

_Through the voice of her priests, Palutena counselled the man who had been chosen as worthy to carry the responsibility of the weapon. She had told him that above all else there was a single target that he must aim for. Palutena had always been fascinated by the history of the pantheon, much more so than Medusa, and she had dug deep to draw out its darkest secrets._

_"It took us time", Medusa heard her sister openly admit, "but look, Viridi"._

_Viridi did. She glanced down at the young woman dying before her and her eyes shone with the fires of emotion. She lifted her gaze back up to the Goddesses._

_"You have slain her", she said. _

_Medusa heard her tone, how her voice trembled very slightly in her anger, and readied herself. Where her sister was skilled in the arena of words, Medusa grasped finely the details of violence. She knew her sister's plan, but there was no telling whether the Goddess of Nature would lash out at them before it had come to its full fruition._

_"No", Palutena said. "She yet lives, and I can rescue her from the brink"._

_Viridi's eyes turned and she focused entirely on the Goddess of Light. "What do you want?"_

_At the corner of eye, Medusa saw the miniscule movements of her sister's grip tightening about the arms of her seat and the ripple of her throat as she swallowed._

_"You will cease your attacks on humankind. You will withdraw your armies from their gates and their cities. Medusa and I will ensure that Man's pursuit to advance itself will not overstep its boundaries. They have as much right to dwell upon Overworld as every other living thing, more so even"._

_"Their right to existence also seems to extend to their right to destroy everything in their path", Viridi said coldly. "They are a plague upon Overworld"._

_"Man has its faults", Palutena allowed. "But from henceforth, we will govern their ways more strictly"._

_"An empty promise", Viridi spat. "Just like the one I will make when I agree to withdraw my armies"._

_"You will withdraw them", Medusa spoke, drawing the Goddess' fierce gaze to herself._

_"It is better that we come to an agreement", Palutena spoke quickly._

_"And how do you possibly intend to hold me to it?"_

_Palutena paused then, and Medusa flexed her fingers, a subtle show of reassurance and support for her sister when she glanced aside. _

_"She is one of the last of them, is she not? Perhaps even the very last", Palutena spoke, gesturing to the young woman before them._

_Viridi glared at her. Palutena lifted a hand slowly._

_"I wish to heal her", she told the Goddess of Nature, "but along with your agreement to our terms, I will have one boon of you"._

_Viridi narrowed her eyes and spoke with a voice of thunder. "You will have nothing of me"._

_"The nymph's life is tied to my power", Palutena warned as her fingers curled and light seemed to spread down to her hand from beneath her golden vambrace. On the ground before them, the young woman suddenly hissed as sparks of light grew among the scarlet of her wound. Viridi's eyes widened as she looked down. Medusa's body tensed as she brought power to her fingertips._

_"She means much to you", Palutena told the Goddess. "You will agree to our terms, and I will have my boon"._

_The nymph arched her back and cried out in a voice made ragged with pain as Palutena's hand glowed intensely. Viridi looked up and held her eyes, her lips peeling apart to reveal a glimpse of bared teeth. Her grip on her staff tightened to the point where Medusa saw the white wood begin to fracture._

_"You will agree to our terms", her sister said once again, the nymph's shout filling the throne room. "And I will have my boon"._

_It fascinated Medusa in that moment to hear her sister's voice, all trace of gentleness forced from its depths. She was cold now, the façade of emotionless lacing her words. Medusa wondered then whether Palutena would truly take the nymph's life._

_"Alright! Alright", Viridi conceded, falling to her knees beside the young woman and taking her hand in hers. _

_Medusa heard her sister's sigh of relief as she lowered her hand and the light she had grasped within her fingertips faded. She stood to her feet then, Medusa joining her side as she moved towards the kneeling Goddess and the nymph. She stopped her sister before she drew too close; it always paid to be cautious, she reasoned. _

_Viridi looked up from the nymph's tight, pained expression to the two Goddesses. "What are you waiting for? Heal her!"_

_"How are we to know that you will not strike us the moment she is healed?" Medusa asked. Viridi turned her eyes to her and Medusa met the Goddess' gaze boldly; a part of her almost itched for Viridi to lash out._

_"Do not question my word in this", Viridi growled, her eyes fiery as she clutched the young woman's hand tightly. _

_Medusa held her gaze for a moment longer before glancing across at her sister. Palutena nodded and extended her staff towards the young woman on the ground, the sapphire at its head beginning to shimmer. Her sister's eyes were clouded even as a small number of the white shards of light li__fted from the scarlet wound._

_Medusa had insisted that Palutena delay the full healing of the nymph, keeping the Goddess of Nature in their power for as long as possible. Her sister did not like the idea, and when she lied to Viridi as the Goddess demanded why she could not fully heal the young woman there and then, her emerald eyes were grim. But it was necessary; Medusa did not trust Viridi's word._

**xXx**

Her memories were not what they once were. Only when she stood and looked over the realm she had once ruled alongside her sister did she recall that particular day. It crept upon her just as she had planned to make Skyworld her prey, ripping out its throat before it could begin to comprehend what had happened. Had she remembered this when she had cast down her sister in defeat, she would have taken Skyworld in that instant. Gaol's words pierced her.

Viridi's creatures patrolled the streets of the city at the foot of her sister's Temple, numerous in amongst Skyworld's denizens. They stood upon the rooftops alongside angels, and at the city's boundaries. A single sweeping glance was enough to spark the swift intelligence of her mind, and she was able to come to a conclusion in the following moments.

She remembered that in all the years that had followed that day, Palutena had not once drawn her boon from the Goddess of Nature. She hissed as she realised that her suspicions had not woken when she ascended to Overworld and saw her army clashing with Viridi's – not her sister's. Palutena had finally called in her favour with the Goddess of Nature.

She had imagined the realm to be ripe for the picking with no leadership at its head, for its people to have fallen into disarray. Palutena was gone, and even Pit, who the people would have surely turned to in the absence of the Goddess. Skyworld had no right to have maintained its calm, and beyond that, to seemingly be prepared for an attack.

Medusa held back her shriek of rage with immense difficulty. It would not do for Skyworld to be alerted to her presence. She stood alone upon a small platform that had strayed far from its brethren, pressed close to the trunk of an eroding pillar.

Her form collapsed suddenly, becoming nothing more than thick wisps of darkness. That darkness began to solidify however, though Medusa did not return to her body. A thick and heavy snake coiled in the shadow of the pillar, its body as black as night with smudges of violet along its length. An orange tongue flicked forwards to taste the air before the snake hissed softly as it uncoiled itself and opened its jaws wide.

Darkness poured from its maw and coalesced thickly before its eyes. The snake hissed once more before slipping its form forward into the black mist.

**xXx**

Viridi waited, her staff held at her side. Though she dwelt in the throne room, she would not take Palutena's seat, instead fashioning her own from a natural growth that she caused to rise up from beneath the stone floor, positioning it on the step just below the Goddess of Light's throne. She did not wish there to be any misunderstanding amongst the angels who came into her presence; she was not here to rule them or their realm. She was standing at present, however, having felt the presence of the Underworld's Queen within the very Temple.

How Medusa had entered the Skyworld, yet alone the Temple itself, without Viridi having immediately picked up on her presence was beyond her. All she knew was that she was glad to have placed a seal upon the Temple's observation room. She knew not the designs of the Underworld and its mistress, and whether or not spies had managed to infiltrate Skyworld. An attack on the seal had singed the corners of her mind and it was only then that she knew Medusa's presence within the Temple.

It did not ease her discontent that it cost some effort to strengthen the seal to thwart the Goddess' efforts to break through it. She had then telepathically broadcast to all the angels and her own children within the Temple to flee from the vicinity of the observation room and the throne room. Medusa would know where to find her.

When she had first come to Skyworld and taken residence in the Temple, Viridi had not been able to suffer the plain stone walls and surroundings for long. She had been unable to resist redecorating, so to speak. It was not to the point that the angels would not recognise their Goddess' throne room, but enough to remind her of the Forest. A white tree stood proud and beautiful within the room, surrounded by a collage of colour and lush beds of grass. Viridi turned her eyes towards it.

"I see you, Medusa".

The snake was draped across the branches of the tree, its thick and heavy form curled about the white branches and partially hidden from view by foliage. As Viridi looked, she felt the affront at the Goddess' transformed presence upon the tree. She considered white wood precious above the natural brown hues of other trees, and her staff was carved of it. She had grown a white tree at the centre of the Forest, its heavy head casting a dappled shadow upon her fortress there.

At the sound of her voice, the snake flicked its tongue into the air and its form seemed to begin to melt. Thick sections of its body fell wetly to the ground below and soon, the snake remained no longer, the tree free of its poisonous burden. A heavy black mist now hung around the base of the white trunk, and Viridi watched as it was slowly pulled towards an invisible centre, gradually gaining solidarity as it was fashioned into the shape of a body.

As Medusa reformed, Viridi met her eyes and held her gaze. It did not surprise her to learn that the Goddess had overpowered and imprisoned her sister twenty-five years prior once she had met her in this very throne room all those years ago, standing where Medusa now stood. She had met her eyes then and understood the darkness behind them; she had seen the affinity for violence lurking within her gaze, an integral component of her nature. She could neither deny nor escape it.

Viridi knew what it was to fight, to defend her realm and even her life when the Gods of old had fought frequently amongst themselves. She had never fought so fiercely as when she had taken Phosphora into her care and Gods and Goddesses had descended to Overworld, ripping through the land in search of the Forest. Some had found it, and the secret of how to do so was lost along with their lives. Viridi had looked at Medusa and seen that same fire in her eyes. She had been prepared to launch herself forwards if Viridi had so much as twitched suspiciously.

Medusa planted her staff to the ground, the snakes at her scalp swaying silently, a single orange-skinned serpent fixing its gaze unblinkingly on Viridi.

"You have taken my sister's seat", she stated plainly.

"I will not relinquish it to you", Viridi said in return. "I question your reasoning for not claiming it in the first place, however. You forgot, I assume, the boon Palutena demanded from me".

"It doesn't matter", Medusa hissed fiercely, her eyes flashing with anger. "Skyworld is mine, and I relish the thought of bloodying my hands to take it".

Viridi's pride was strong, and she felt it rise up within her even now at Medusa's suggestion.

"You do not know me, Medusa. I am of the old pantheon, one of the first daughters of the Elders. There once existed Gods and Goddesses that you will never hear of in all your days because they were fool enough to cross me".

"All I see before me", Medusa said with a soft, mocking tone, "is a child".

Viridi snarled openly and cursed in a tongue far older than the Goddess before her. The throne room sprang to life around them, the thick vines that had patterned the ceiling above unwinding as barbed thorns protruded from their lengths.

Medusa lifted her staff and then slammed it to the ground; the snake at its head opened its jaws wide and darkness poured with impossible swiftness into the room. The canker of death and decay spread throughout the room and clung to all manner of life it touched. All in sight slowly perished until Viridi swept her hand through the air dismissively and Nature roared to life.

A rattling hiss seemed to come from the thorny vines above as they shook aside the smoky grip of death and barrelled down towards Medusa. The Goddess dematerialised in a moment and the vines plunged into the cloud of darkness, hammering into the ground below it.

The white tree awoke at Viridi's call as Medusa reformed, sweeping thick boughs through the air with enough force to part the head from her shoulders. Branches reached out to wrap around her wrists and hold her captive, but Medusa's form was but a shadow. She laughed as the tree's efforts swept clean through her body time and again. She caught a flailing limb in a black, scaled hand just before it sliced through her face, smiling at Viridi as death crept along its length at her touch.

The tree whipped a myriad of boughs and branches towards her then, but they were not meant to strike themselves. Instead, their leaves detached from their thin stalks, slicing through the air in a flurry of green. The Goddess was consumed within it, for a moment almost entirely obscured from view. The tree swept its limbs into the chaos with killing power. And then the room was plunged into complete darkness.

Viridi cast her eyes about and could not even see her hand before her eyes. But then she suddenly felt one upon her face; the back of several cold fingers tenderly stroked her cheek and a voice whispered in her ear.

"Will that be all, child?"

The vines that shot up from beneath the ground hugged her body tightly and shoved her backwards, just as she felt the razor sharp tip of the Medusa's nails upon her cheek. She avoided having her face savagely ripped off by the mere fraction of a second.

Light returned to the room just as suddenly as it had been extinguished, and Viridi found Medusa standing in the same place as she had been when surrounded by the flurry of leaves. The white tree stood dead in her vicinity, claimed by darkness. Viridi narrowed her eyes at the Goddess as her lips curled.

Their battle all but left the throne room in ruins.

Viridi had first crushed the northern wall by summoning a huge carnivorous plant from the gardens behind the Temple, the snapping of its jaws reverberating off the remaining walls. Medusa had then left said walls blackened when she washed the room with fire.

The end came about when Viridi had cast aside her intention to not thoroughly destroy the Temple itself in her effort to defeat Medusa. In a moment of cold decision, she had cast aside all her cares for the lives that may have yet still remained within it.

Medusa was overwhelmed by the monstrosities that Viridi summoned as the Goddess wielded the true force of Nature. With a scream of rage as her own strength waned and her attacks proved futile against Viridi, she fled the Temple.

Viridi chased after her. She lashed a leash of thick vines about the floating rock of one of the gardens, anchoring it with huge, thick roots driven deep into the throne room's floor. She then whipped the island forward in pursuit of Medusa.

Viridi did not relent in her pursuit until with a scream of frustration that shook the city below, Medusa fled Skyworld entirely. Manipulating the long and flexible roots and gradually making them taut, Viridi and the rock that had hurtled through the air drew to a halt just beyond the boundaries of the city. The Goddess turned and cast a look over her shoulder.

The Temple remained standing, something Viridi considered an achievement, though it was most certainly not without its wounds. Despite the brief moment in which she had swept through the streets, Medusa had still managed to cause notable damage. Viridi had already spotted several severely wounded angels and a frown lined her young features. Fear had taken the city's denizens and shouts and screams floated up to her. Angels were streaming towards her, a throng already forming and choking the streets below.

She winced then, and touched a hand to her side where her dress was torn. It had been a long time since she had suffered a wound, and she found that she certainly didn't miss the sensation of pain. Viridi sucked air through her teeth as fire streaked through her body.

She needed Phosphora.


	8. Chapter 8

"Thanatos!"

Medusa's shout preceded her into the dark throne room, the weak light of the halo of souls at its ceiling dripping like rivulets of water down the walls. The Goddess stalked into the room, her stride and voice fuelled by anger. Gaol followed in her shadow, its hands clasped behind its back.

"Thanatos!" Medusa called again, looking up to the ceiling as though he would descend from its heights.

"Majesty", spoke Gaol at her shoulder as she approached the throne, "you are wounded".

"I am fine", Medusa hissed as she turned, though she held her shoulder limply. She lifted her face to the ceiling once more and opened her mouth wide.

The circulating halo of souls churned suddenly, and the whisper of harrowed, fearful souls multiplied in volume as the Goddess drew them hungrily down towards her. A stream of sparkling light poured into her mouth and she devoured the unfortunate souls without restraint. When she had finished, she swept a hand across her mouth, her torn skin restored and shoulder set correctly. Stark white eyes were turned towards her armoured commander.

"Report".

"Majesty, my castle has come under attack from a human army. They marched with purpose, and so I have assumed that they understand the castle's primary use".

"Have you instructed for the Gatekeeper to be activated?"

"Yes, Majesty", Gaol responded.

Medusa turned back towards her throne. "Then there is no more to be said. I expect the human army to be crushed".

"What of the Hewdraw's attack?" she said as she took her high stone seat.

"The walls of the city have proven capable, but the Hewdraw's forces broke through in time. The Reavers are proving themselves to be a worthwhile investment, Majesty".

"Of course", Medusa said without a moment's pause or concern.

"However", Gaol continued, "the Forces of Nature have come to the aid of the city. The Hewdraw's army is pinned between them and the human forces within the walls".

Medusa drew darkness about herself as she bared her teeth; she did not wish Gaol to see the depth of fury upon her face.

When she had infiltrated her sister's Temple, she had made straight for the Observation room. Skyworld's Temple had been crafted by the hand of the Elders and gifted to the two Goddesses; Medusa knew not how to replicate that room within her Underworld fortress and she had sought to uproot the Temple's. She had come up against the seal of the Goddess of Nature however, and the fires of her rage had been provoked as she was reminded bitterly of her sister's actions long ago.

She saw Gaol's eyes shift then, almost imperceptibly, moving to grace her shoulder where the wound inflicted upon her by Viridi had moments ago bared itself. She valued the creature for its worth as a strategist, but right now she would not hesitate to burn it to ash if it so much as dared to ask the question. Perhaps the eventual arrival of the God of Death spared Goal, an ironic notion.

Thanatos arrived in a flurry of wind, one that turned him about on his feet numerous times before he awkwardly tried to step forwards and fell clumsily to the ground. Medusa eyes darkened at his foolishness.

"Medusa!" the God greeted as he righted himself and turned to face her. "I believe I heard your voice flowing across the Underworld like the fierce song of a – "

"I have called you many a time, Thanatos", the Goddess spoke over him. Considering that she was able to tolerate the Hewdraw's chatter, it mystified her that Thanatos' mere existence grated so heavily on her patience.

"My dearest and most sincere apologies", Thanatos said with an emphatic bow and the elaborate wave of the hand. "I was busy, you see".

"You are an indolent buffoon", Medusa cursed him. "What you do with your time is beyond me, but I am assured that it most certainly isn't work".

Thanatos gasped and even jumped as though startled and shocked to the core by her words. "My dear Medusa, you offend me deeply!"

"Enough with your games", the Goddess snarled. "I require you, and so help me if you attempt to slip away".

"I am at your service", Thanatos said with another bow, his plump bulk disallowing him from making it as deep as he seemed to intend, for he almost pitched forwards with the effort.

"The Goddess Viridi has taken the seat of Skyworld", Medusa said. "I have fought and wounded her, and now I am sending you to finish what I have begun".

The God arched his brow considerably. "The Goddess of Nature? Oh, that will not do, fair Medusa. You send me to my demise!"

"Are you deaf, Thanatos? She is weak, more than enough for you to wield your pathetic power and claim her life".

"Then I must ask", Thanatos began, his blue lips curving.

"You will ask nothing", Medusa said coldly. "You will do as instructed, Thanatos. I have my plans, and this is how you factor into them".

"As you say", he rasped in reply.

Medusa turned her eyes to Gaol, who remained perfectly still in the God of Death's shadow. "Gaol, you will accompany Thanatos. I have a plan and purpose for you also".

"Thank you, Majesty", the creature replied.

Medusa lifted a hand and turned her palm upwards, the darkness rising from her pores thick and heady. It took on a shape and gradually solidified until the body of a large bow fell into her grasp. She cast her eyes over it, the memory returning to her as she prodded the depths of her mind. She had crafted such a bow before, and it had been used to ultimately bring about an age of peace for humankind. This time, however, it would serve as the beginnings of their undoing.

**xXx**

The Underworld army had not seen them coming until they were practically right on top of them. Even if the army had placed within its ranks numerous officers with which to turn around the forces and organise them into a defensive line to protect their rear, it was already too late. Phosphora lead the charge, sweeping low to the ground and tearing through the ranks. She lifted herself skyward as she neared the scorched and pitted walls of the city, the clouds already gathering to her call.

The Forces of Nature swept in after her, clashing viciously with the Underworld as it struggled in its disorientation to turn around and defend itself against the new onslaught. A score of Flage rallied to Phosphora's call as she angled herself for another charge.

Mik and Monoeye rose to intercept them, and at her shoulder, a Flage was cut down by a fizzling ball of purple energy slicing through its torso. Phosphora sheathed her arm in electricity as she lanced through the sky, sweeping the charged limb through the air as she passed through the flock of enemies and carved a dozen from their number. The Flage tore through in her wake, descending upon the Underworld army with fury as Phosphora's arc of flight was accompanied with blasts of electricity that cooked the tender flesh of armoured Skuttlers in an instant.

Humans were lined up along the length of the wall's battlements, bow and arrow in hand as they fired down into the roiling mass beneath them. But the Underworld was most certainly not confined to the ground, and soon the archers were forced to draw swords as Komaytos rose up the length of the high walls to meet them, arrows failing to pierce their transparent, gelatinous bodies.

A man screamed as a Komayto screeched and surged towards him, smashing into his face and latching itself there. The man flailed wildly, inadvertently braining one of his brothers with a desperate slice of his blade aimed blindly at the creature draining his life away.

Phosphora flew the length of the wall as a swarm of Komayto began to rise towards the archers atop it, electricity blasting forth from outstretched fingertips and slicing through the creatures' bodies. The Komayto shuddered in the air, their forms violently convulsing as lightning visibly arced through them before exploding and showering those below with their innards.

She rose and alighted briefly upon the city walls amidst the chaos of battle, leaning over the battlements to look into the city.

The Underworld had broken through the gates and flown over the walls beyond the reach of the archers, and Phosphora watched the flood pour down the streets and wash over the soldiers rallied to defend the city and its people. Her eyes were drawn upward then as a huge roar tore across the sky and reverberated through her body. She was finally able to identify the purple hide of the creature she and Viridi had glimpsed in the reflecting pool.

The body of the vast, three-headed serpent-like creature undulated through the air as it flew through a wide circle about the perimeter of the city. The head to its right opened its jaws as the creature flew overheard the battlements of the walls, its wide maw glowing with heat. Fire gushed from its mouth, washing over the walls in a brief but fierce burst. Phosphora grimaced for a moment as she unwittingly imagined flesh being cooked within armour.

She had donned her own when she had returned to the Forest to gather herself an army, presenting a fearsome image that had spearheaded the Forces of Nature's attack. The polished silver of her breastplate reflected the glowing heat of the flying creature's flames as it flew over the city close by.

She glanced down as she vaulted over the wall, seeing the torrent of the Underworld pressing through the streets and for a moment caught in indecision. But she figured that it would be better to focus her attentions upon the fire-breathing serpent now, while strength still remained in her limbs.

She was unquestionably powerful, but that seemed to come at a cost of a shorter stretch of stamina than she would have liked, despite the fact that she had trained hard to overcome this in the years gone by. As she flew upwards to intercept the creature, she quickly learned that her decision was a good one.

"Oh, greetings, finely armoured warrior", the creature spoke politely as she came within its sight. She hung poised in the air, for the moment astounded that the thing possessed the power of speech.

"I do say it is a pleasure to meet you", another of the heads said.

"May we have the honour of your name?" said the last.

_What in the world_…Phosphora thought to herself as the creature waited patiently, its body undulating slowly.

"Well, perhaps you lack the powers of speech", one head offered.

"We are Hewdraw", another informed her. "And I think it is safe to assume that you are here to hinder our efforts?"

"Marvellous", the third head said without letting her get a word in. "The humans are quite the underwhelming opponent".

"They are quite tasty, however".

"Your palate underwhelms me, too".

"You would disagree? I find charred flesh to be most delightful".

"Human flesh is flavourless, and the crunch of the bones between one's fangs rather unsatisfactory".

They were mocking her, surely. Their attention was all but lost on her as they began to argue adamantly amongst themselves, the heads snapping at each other both verbally and literally as their war of words and opinions intensified. A snarl left Phosphora's lips as the din grew unbearably irritating and she called to the heavens with her next breath.

Lightning answered to her call and lanced straight through the neck of the left head. Its brothers fell silent and turned to the flopping, writhing neck as the cauterized wound hissed loudly. The head fell to the city below, crushing several buildings with its impact. Phosphora did not miss the sound of its voice reaching her ear, bemoaning its predicament.

_It lives?!_

"I do believe we have upset our guest", the central head said to its brother.

"Aye", it agreed. "To business, then".

The Hewdraw surged forwards with a roar that promised vengeance.

**xXx**

With unreal strength he hefted the blade and swung it to intercept the Clubberskull's dying flail, slicing cleanly through the joint of its thick arm. He planted a heavy boot to the creature's single bulbous eye and kicked it away. Several newly motivated guardsmen leapt upon it eagerly, finally bloodying their swords. The heavyset man smirked and shook his head as he watched them, the muscles of his arm flexing as he lifted his blade to his shoulder. He turned then, taking the opportunity of the lull around him to point his gaze skyward.

Something collided with him suddenly, violently, and completely without warning.

He was knocked clean off his feet and sent careering into – and through – the thin walls of an abandoned tavern. He felt his grip about his sword slip away, the weapon coming to a loud rest somewhere beyond his sight as dust rose before his eyes. His vision blurred from pain and the world was somewhat muted to his hearing. He winced as he tried to move and the side of his head and shoulder throbbed fiercely.

"Damnit", he cursed, sucking air between his teeth as the pain seemed to nestle behind his eyes. The dust began to clear as he slowly massaged his temple and planted a hand to the floor to steady himself. He felt the cold edge of metal against his fingertips and turned his eyes.

His gaze took a moment to focus as pain assaulted his senses intermittently, but when he looked he saw a fellow human, though they were armoured much more impressively than the guardsmen and soldiers he had been fighting alongside seconds before. The impact seemed to have knocked them out cold, but even as the thought came to mind, they stirred and he heard a young feminine groan.

The figure lifted hands to the helm at her head and with a little difficulty, freed herself of its burden. The man raised an eyebrow as his gaze fell upon her.

She was young, a teenager teetering on the edge of womanhood. Her golden hair was pulled back into a tight knot at the back of her head, though he could see red tips jutting out at the base of her neck as she shook her head as though to clear it. Her face was lined with rivulets of sweat and she sported a deep cut through her lower lip.

"The battlefield isn't a place for a girl", the man said as he pulled himself slowly to his feet, looking down at her as she jerked in surprise at his voice. She gave him a look that was far more mature than her appearance would suggest, and when he lowered a hand to help her up and she lifted her own to meet it, his brow rose higher than before.

"No ordinary girl", he was forced to amend himself as electricity arced along the length of her arm and she touched a fingertip to his palm. He jerked back his hand and shook it as he winced audibly.

He had seen the battle going on overhead, the serpent-dragon battling fiercely with what at the time had simply appeared to be a star formed of tongues of lightning, flitting through the sky faster than thought. He had heard rather than seen the first head of the beast fall – the second he had certainly seen. It had almost crushed him.

He had struck first and asked questions later, and now the severed head lay dead amongst the chaos of shattered buildings with a gigantic wound sliced through its toothy maw. It seemed the mystery of the falling heads was the cause of the girl before him.

"What are you?" the man asked, thinking perhaps that he should have been extremely cautious and perhaps even fearful in the presence of the being before him, though instead a strange calm had stolen over him.

"An ally", the girl said simply as she lifted herself to her feet.

"A rather powerful ally", the man said, interested by her tone. She possessed the voice of an older woman, one that spoke of experience and was tempered by hard trials. Yet it still suited her form, he thought. He also heard from it the fact that she was not in any mood to answer the deluge of questions each vying to spill from his lips first.

He offered a hand to her, warily. "Magnus".

She paused for a moment, looking down at the extended limb as though puzzled by its intention. Then, slowly, she took it.

"Phosphora".

He grunted as he reached down to retrieve his heavy blade; pain crept along his back, but he shrugged it off. There was work to be done. When he stood, he found Phosphora gazing at him intently.

"You are not dressed or armed like the others", she remarked, her tone curious.

Magnus shrugged. He figured she meant that he was not encased in armour like the guards and soldiers; in fact he would probably seem almost casually dressed in comparison to them. His only protection was a thick vest and rugged trousers, both navy-blue in colour. He also reasoned that it would be safe to guess that no one else was hefting a weapon remotely similar to his own within or without the city walls.

Phosphora said nothing more as she turned away and moved towards the wreckage of the tavern wall, a trio of guards ran by oblivious to them with shouts in their throats, spears and shield at the ready.

Magnus moved to her shoulder and saw her look skyward; he lifted his eyes and found the now single-headed serpent turning a tight circle above their heads.

"It's waiting for me", Phosphora noted. "Damn arrogant beast, I swear it gets stronger with each head I take".

"Well, I would offer my hand", Magnus said, "but I doubt I would do any good from down here".

She looked aside, appearing to consider him very carefully. "There is one more in the city, to the east. I saw you kill one of them. You fight well, Magnus".

"I try", he said. "To the east, you say".

"Mm", she hummed, turning her sharp amethyst gaze away from him. "But I will not hold anything against you if you choose not to go after it. I can handle them myself".

Magnus arched an eyebrow. "It's no shame to ask for help".

She looked weary, he noted. Sweat dripped from her brow and she sucked in her breath. He nodded to her as he stepped out into the street and struck up a light jog, calling out to a group of soldiers who numbered just short of a dozen and bidding them to follow him.

Phosphora watched him until he and his impromptu entourage vanished into another street. She certainly hadn't intended to ask the human for his help, but the ache of fatigue burning in her limbs had brought the words to her tongue. If the Hewdraw above proved as fierce as she expected to be, then she knew she would have no strength left to defeat the remaining head – and she had neglected to tell the human that she had glimpsed the severed head already beginning to repair its body, a feat she couldn't even pretend to comprehend.

It didn't matter now; the Hewdraw's eye had finally found her. She donned her helm once more and sheathed her form in electricity as she blasted towards the sky.

Magnus glanced upwards as he saw the arrow of lightning lance directly at the flying serpent, his sight obscured as he rounded a corner and buildings rose up to cast their shadow upon the street. One of the soldiers at his shoulder fell to a Keron, the creature leaping out from an alleyway and closing its wide jaws over the man's head. Another of the soldiers, perhaps a loyal friend Magnus reasoned, turned back with a cry of fury. Magnus pressed on.

The sky came into sight again, and Magnus briefly watched Phosphora narrowly avoid the cone of fire the beast blasted from its maw. The serpent whipped its tail through the air and almost swatted the girl from the sky as she aimed to strike for its neck.

"Look alive!" Magnus roared at the men behind him as they turned into another street and witnessed the destruction caused by the final head of the serpent writhing violently amongst crushed buildings with a half formed body at its neck. Even as Magnus looked on, a purplish appendage began to push its way out from beneath the creature's scaly hide. Skuttlers surged towards them as – to Magnus' utter surprise – the serpent shouted its commands.

"Forward minions, lest these humans arrest my recovery!"

Magnus was glad he had struck first and asked questions and the men charged into the fray.

Magnus struck the first Skuttler with the sole of his heavy boot, applying more than enough force to take the creature of its feet. The second he carved through with little effort and the third was swept aside by the flat of his blade, the gruesome work finished by one of the soldiers impaling the Skuttler upon his spear. They pressed through the Underworld creatures towards the serpent, whose writhing had all but maddened as they approached it with the promise of death.

"Minions! To me!"

Magnus cursed as Miks flowed over the roofs of the buildings to either side of the street, and several Armin shunted themselves through tight alleyways and emerged into the street directly before the flopping head of the serpent. Magnus wielded his blade with fury as the Underworld creatures surged towards them. The men pushed together beside him, and they fought shoulder to shoulder. Magnus carved through the skull of a Mik as it launched itself at the fellow beside him, who only moments later saved his life in return when a Skuttler leapt from a roof right onto the man's spear.

Undoubtedly, however, their numbers were too few. The waves of the Underworld crashed against them without pause and drove them back step after step. Men fell at his shoulder, and Magnus cursed as he watched the serpent's body slowly but surely reform. The beast cackled its pleasure and promised to feast on charred flesh as he and the men fought for their lives. And then an almighty crash tore through the street behind him.

Phosphora felt the fire of anger and the heat of battle hold back the burn of fatigue in her body as in an unreal display of strength, she dragged the Hewdraw down from the sky. They crashed to the ground and her immediate roll to the side saved her from the snapping of the Hewdraw's jaws as it sought her amidst the dust of rubble thrown into the air as their impact destroyed a good number of buildings and tore right into the street.

Barely a moment after finding her feet, Phosphora threw herself aside as the serpent whipped its tail and almost crushed the entire left side of her body. She felt its breath hot against her skin as her helm was dislodged and rolled out of sight. With a grunt, she kicked out and turned aside the Hewdraw's glowing maw as it belched fire into the street. Scrambling to pull herself to her feet, Phosphora reached deep and drew electricity to sheath her arms up to her elbows.

With a shout, she punched through the Hewdraw's hide near its snout as it whipped its head back to her. She made a claw of the fingers of her left hand and thrust her arm into the tender gum of the serpent as it opened its jaws to roar in pain. And then she called to the heavens.

Magnus threw an arm across the chest of the man beside him as he saw the fallen Hewdraw's mouth glow orange, throwing himself back against the wall behind them. The serpent's fire swept through the street and the air was rent with the screech and stench of Skuttlers and Miks as they were cooked on the spot. He winced loudly a few moments later when a fork of lightning blasted down from the sky above, accompanied by a deafening clap of thunder, and tore through the serpent at Phosphora's mercy.

It took him a long moment to recover his senses and his bearing, but when he had them he pulled himself to his feet and turned to single remaining serpent, guarded by a trio of Armin.

"Ha!" Magnus shouted as he ran forward at full tilt.

"Facetious creature!" the serpent cursed him. "I avenge my brethren!"

It opened its mouth and Magnus saw bulbs of fire blossom at the back its throat; the Armin lumbered forward to meet him.

Magnus did not pause as something swept down from the sky at the corner of his sight. Half a dozen Blader angled their dive and cut through the exposed, vulnerable hides of the Armin at their back, slicing their feet out from underneath them. Magnus lifted himself into the air over the bodies of the Armin as they crashed to the ground and skidded to an eventual halt; the serpent's mouth glowed with intensity now, and Magnus soon heard the low rumbling of its roar.

The end of his vast sword drew sparks as it dragged across the cobblestones, his footfalls heavy as he carried his bulk forwards at threatening speed. The muscles of his shoulders and back rippled as he leapt into the air and swung a mighty strike.

The serpent screeched an unearthly sound as Magnus tore straight through its upper jaw. His leap had carried him barely to land upon the serpent's scaled snout, and in his own show on strength, Magnus gave a shout drawn deep from his gut as he pulled the blade right through the creature from snout to right between its eyes.

The Hewdraw belched gouts of fire in the convulsions of death, its deformed body writhing madly at its neck. Anchored by his sword driven deep into the serpent's skull, Magnus rode out the violent waves of the Hewdraw's death throes.

When the beast finally accepted its death and grew still, Magnus extricated his blade with some difficulty and navigated his way down its tilted head to the street below.

Phosphora approached him, her silver helm held in her left hand and her hair pulled loose from its knot during the chaos of the fight. Magnus saw clearly now the red tips of her golden hair as it fanned out behind her head in the shape of a crescent. She stopped about an arm's length away from him and looked at the last of the dead Hewdrew heads.

"Impressive", she said.

Magnus hefted his bloodied sword to his shoulder. "Did you just thank me?"

His tone was playful, she realised as the beginnings of a frown lined her features. She smiled slightly but said nothing, her eyes drawn to a purplish glint within the Hewdraw's gaping jaws.

"Hey, what are you…?"

Magnus watched as Phosphora put a hand to the serpent's split snout and then ducked her head into its mouth, seemingly reaching between its fangs. When she drew her head out again, she held in her hand a purple crystal, slick with saliva.

Magnus shrugged as she lifted the crystal to the light. "Huh".

"It seems like something is etched into it", Phosphora noted, looking closely at the gem. "A symbol…"

"You can hold onto that", Magnus said, not caring much for the crystal. His payment was already secure, and something in Phosphora's voice told him that there was more to her interest in the crystal than its value.

"I intend to", she told him, lifting her eyes and seeming to study him.

"What now, then?" Magnus said as the lull of battle once again settled around them. He cast his eyes about the street and found to his displeasure that not one of the men who had fought alongside him had survived to see another battle.

"The fight continues", Phosphora said, rolling her shoulders. "I am sent to aid humankind in the battle against the Underworld".

"Sent?"

"By the Goddess".

Magnus' face twisted. "So the Goddess of Light has finally decided to get off her backside and do something for once?"

Palutena was not her Goddess, but yet still she felt a flash of anger stir at her breast for the human's slight. Had he replaced but a single word with another, he would lie dead at her feet. Perhaps Magnus saw the shadow that darkened her eyes, however, for his tone was lighter as he spoke again.

"So, you're an angel?"

Phosphora shook her head. "I am not a servant of the Goddess of Light, neither am I an angel".

"Then, what are you?" Magnus asked yet again.

Phosphora smiled. "An ally", she said, but then she sobered, turning her eyes skyward.

"The Gods work in ways you would not understand", she told Magnus. She thought it best not to reveal Palutena's predicament to the human. "While it may seem that the Goddess of Light has forsaken you, that is far from the truth".

"The only truth I see is the fact that the Goddess hasn't answered a single prayer in decades. Where is the peace and prosperity that the priests of her Temples are quick to preach of? Our world has fallen to chaos and the Goddess is blind to it".

Something in the human's voice spoke to her: the raw edge carved into him by loss.

She could understand loss; she understood its pain and the bitterness it inspired. She thought that perhaps she should not have let this human speak so brazenly against the Gods, but she had once stood where he did now, swallowed by the gloom of grief. Even now, that darkness still tried to claim her, reminding her of what was lost to her forever.

She drew in a breath and forced those thoughts from her mind. She was grateful for this human's actions; perhaps he had even saved her life.

"You fight to save your world then", she said to him, but he shook his head.

"I'm looking for someone. The Underworld took her from me, corrupted and changed her into something I could barely recognise".

"Your lover?"

"A friend", Magnus said. "A good friend".

Magnus was something called a mercenary, she learned, and the woman he sought one amongst his company. Without her prompting him, the human described the woman to her. Long brown hair, green eyes the colour of grass, and her right shoulder marked with the same pattern that was drawn upon his left.

"What?" Magnus asked in a genuinely curious tone as Phosphora looked at him with an arched brow. She was unable to tell him what she thought of his relationship with the woman however when the lull around them was split unceremoniously by the thunder of a pair of Clubberskulls muscling their way into the street, a score of guardsmen tripping over themselves to retreat from the hulking creatures' advance.

At the same time, Phosphora's face suddenly turned towards the clouds above. An urgent voice reached her ear.

"I am called", she said. "Farewell", she bid Magnus.

"Hey, wait!" he called after her as she lifted herself skyward, but to no avail for she quickly became nothing more than a grey pinprick to his sight.

He cursed as the Clubberskulls and the fearful guardsmen pressed towards him, lifting his blade to the ready. A smirk rose to his lips a few moments later when one last fork of lightning descended to the ground and blasted one of the creatures to dust. He shook his head and charged into battle.

* * *

**A/N: DukeSerkol, yup even I have to agree with you there about the way the fight went in the previous chapter. I had it pictured nice and neatly in my head...and then realised that it would be pretty lengthy when turned into words. I didn't want to drag it out to the extent that it no doubt would've gone, though the way I worked around that is a little cop-outish. I secretly hoped that everyone's imaginations to do the legwork for me lol.**

**Also, I haven't addressed points made in some of your other reviews like this before as I didn't really want to have A/Ns every chapter, but I am taking note of them. Some I'll address in this manner once all is said and done.**

**With that being said, thanks to all who have read and reviewed thus far. I continue to hope you're all enjoying this story : ) **


	9. Chapter 9

Medusa sat in silence, enveloped in the darkness she had drawn about herself as before her a torrent of souls poured down from above. A length of time had passed that she did not know, and she spent it doing nothing more than crafting the feeble bodies that would soon be made to don the black cursed armour of the Reaver.

Newly formed bodies fell wetly to the ground, pulled to their feet by the force of Medusa's will and drawn close for inspection. They were faultless, as always. Their empty red eyes gazed at her and she glared back, rooting fear deep within their core. When a score stood before her, she sent them away to meet their fate, turning back to the falling rain of whispering souls and resuming her work.

By this point, however, she had already recognised that she was doing this merely to keep herself occupied. To craft the Reaver took ample amounts of concentration and focus, enough to keep her from ceaselessly probing at her mind and driving herself to unrest. In her moments of stillness, she had begun to fear that there was something at work within her beyond her power and control.

When she sat and mused in the silent darkness of her throne room, she searched the order of her mind and grew restless. It was as though a knife had been taken to her skull and certain memories picked from within by a precise hand. It was as though certain thoughts dangled at the ends of the puppeteer's strings, for when she considered them, she could not see them as her own.

It bothered her that she had called Thanatos to aid her. It bothered her that she knew Thanatos to be essentially her right-hand, but not why. How was it that she placed more value in the God of Death than the armoured creature she kept at her side? The comprehension of it all evaded her by the merest fraction, and where she would think she had finally understood it, her mind seemed to dangle the circumstance before her in a subtly new light that cast doubt upon her.

There was something that she knew about the God of Death that she could not place, a secret that remained just out of reach. Doubt and uncertainty crept up upon her with each passing hour and her mood grew dark. She should not have sent him; she knew it, but the reason evaded her.

The Hewdraw was dead. She had cast her mind forth and demanded a report of the battle from it, but received silence in response. She had tried again, but to no avail. After a brief pause, she had taken the eyes of a Reaver within the city walls and turned them skyward. She saw and heard nothing to indicate the Hewdraw's presence. He would not ignore her. Never. And so she presumed him dead.

Her army could function without a voice of authority above it on the field of battle, but with much less efficiency. The Reavers, however, would know her orders better than the other common rabble that she was forced to call her army.

The power of her presence upon the Reaver, though brief, destroyed its body. She left its weak, crushed human frame with a sound of disgust. Only with the reflecting pool of her sister's Temple could she look directly upon Overworld; she was reminded once more of her failure.

Learning of the Hewdraw's demise had done little to better her mood, and something she could not identify about the fact of its death worried her to point of frustration. Soon not even the work of producing capable bodies to become Reavers could hold her mind in check. The torrent of souls pouring down from the ceiling began to dry up, the incessant whisper that had brushed against the walls of the room growing dim beyond all natural hearing.

Medusa lifted a hand to the side of her head, her pale eyelids fluttering as she cast herself deep into her mind. She could feel a triple fold hatred simmering at the core of her being: Pit, her sister, and the humans. Two of them she had dealt with, and the last drove her forwards on a warpath; she would see them all dead. A new hatred had spawned within her, one for the Goddess Viridi.

It incensed her that she had been forced to flee for her life from a being shaped as a child. It incensed her that she had been forced to flee at all. She was sure that she had had the Goddess on her heels; she had drawn from the well of souls the Underworld boasted and bolstered her power considerably. She had not fled from her sister all those years ago…she thought.

She could not remember. Medusa snarled as she searched for it: the memory of how her sister had bested her.

How had she stood toe to toe with the Goddess of Nature, and yet been beaten and cast down to the depths of the Underworld by her sister? She searched, but she knew nothing besides waking in the darkness of the realm she had eventually claimed as her own, her head heavy and blazing with pain. The memory had been scoured from her mind, and yet she knew that her defeat was Palutena's doing. And how had she risen from her prison of death? Whose hand had lifted her from that darkness that had almost driven her insane?

Familiar questions raced through her mind and Medusa grew furious at the lack of answers alongside them. She felt pain at the side of her head and opened her eyes; her nails had begun to sink into her skin, such was the intensity of her frustration.

She removed her hand and felt the cool, smooth hide of the snakes against her as they glided down and forked tongues lapped at the punctures she had inadvertently made. She stood to her feet a moment later, restless beyond her tolerance. This room would offer her no solace, and no answers.

**xXx**

Palutena was slumped against the wall, the bars of her cage cold upon her cheek as she leaned weakly against it. Her eyes were lidded, barely cracked open to allow what little light dwelt in the room into her gaze. She had not moved or spoken in longer than she could remember; the passage of Time had lost its meaning for her. She knew not the duration of her incarceration, only the pain which it had ultimately brought about.

Pit's voice whispered incessantly in her ear, and the shadow tugged and pulled at her mind, splintering and fracturing the few defences she had left against it. It cost her so much energy just merely fending it off; once in a while, she tried to push Pit's soul away from the coils of the shadow, but it grasped on tightly and with sharp claws raked the depths of her. She held on, despite its constant onslaught; she was slowly but surely beginning to understand the way the shadow had entrapped Pit's soul.

With each attempt she made, she was able to dig a little deeper, to extract her angel a touch further than the previous effort. The shadow fought back more fiercely with each attempt, however. Palutena belatedly realised that she was all but speeding up her descent into madness, but the need to rescue Pit and in turn herself from his bitter voice seemed to overpower her sensibilities.

"I hate you", the shadow whispered, even now as she thought of him. "You forsook us, and left us to perish…"

There was nothing she could have done. She hadn't known. She couldn't have seen what would occur. But the shadow did not care for her weak excuses. It filled Pit's voice with cold rage and sank its claws deep into her. She whimpered at the touch of the sharp, hot knife.

She heard a voice outside the walls of her prison then, the monotonous drone of the guard floating beneath the heavy door. Her eyes opened a little further as the door was pushed open, wavering torchlight from the corridor beyond filtering into the room. A familiar figure stepped inside. The door clanged shut behind them.

She waited, but the familiar question her sister posed when coming to visit her did not come this time. Instead, the shadow of her form suddenly loomed over Palutena as Medusa strode towards her cage, her eyes flashing in the darkness as she lowered a fierce gaze upon her.

A long silence passed between them, thick with tension. It was all Palutena could do to keep her gaze focused as she met her sister's fierce eyes. And then Medusa finally spoke.

"How did you do it?"

Palutena had no reply, even if she could have summoned the strength to lick dry, cracked lips and attempt to push words beyond them.

"You are a weak, pathetic being", Medusa said darkly. "How did _you _defeat _me_ and cast me down to this world?"

Palutena felt the meagre strength in her body wane and her neck slumped, her eyes sliding away from Medusa's. Her sister thrust an arm through the bars and took hold of her jaw, forcing her face upwards.

"Do not turn your eyes from me, sister", she hissed. "Do I disgust you so? You who thought to curse me with this form?"

"Your heart…I made you…" Palutena croaked weakly.

"Your heart is blacker than mine", Medusa said fiercely, her grip tightening around Palutena's jaw. "You cursed me. You destroyed what I once was, and in your cruelty you tore my mind apart".

"Your mind…I never…touched –"

"Do not lie to me", Medusa said as her eyes narrowed dangerously. "How? _How did you do it?_"

Palutena cried out as Medusa pulled her into the bars and grasped the side of her head painfully with her other hand. She felt her nails puncture her skin and the shadow nestled within her mind was lashed by her sister's whip, burrowing deep – deeper than ever before into her. She cried out in pain as Medusa hissed violent anger, the past rushing forward to the Goddess' call.

**xXx**

_She didn't know when it had begun, or how it had happened, but as she looked down upon the world below through the waters of the reflecting pool, all she saw was death._

_The city streets were lined with the violently ill, men and women forced to their hands and knees as they spewed blood from their lips, their bodies shaking in the aftermath of wracking coughing fits. Mothers clung desperately to deathly pale children, their cheeks flecked with blood and spittle as the child breathed their last. Those who somehow remained unaffected tore through the streets, stealing the wares and possessions of those too weak to defend themselves or their property._

_Out in the fields, the harvest ripe for the picking was no more. Where once golden stalks of wheat had stood tall as they swayed gently in the wind, there now remained scorched earth and dust floating upon the air. Beside a river, men lamented as they drew forth their nets and the stench of the fish caught within reached their nostrils._

_Palutena knew not how this had come about; she was certain that her sister had not stepped foot within the observation room since she had set her seal upon its doors. She had sought to keep a closer eye on Medusa as discreetly as she could, and to her knowledge, her sister had not left the Temple, let alone approach the sealed doors of the room she currently dwelt within. Perhaps then, a plague had struck the world below. But it had spread across cities and towns so quickly…and that would not explain the fires that had burned fields far and wide across the land._

_The humans were crying out to her for help, but there was nothing she could do._

_She traced back her thoughts and with a jolt that spread numbing cold from the pit of her stomach, she aligned the time that she had noticed the numerous afflictions upon the world below begin with a specific action of hers. Or rather, inaction._

_She had promised her sister that she would deal with her followers after they had ransacked the Temples and killed Medusa's. She had failed. _

_She was addicted to the sense of pleasure that spread through her when the worship of her people reached her ears, and she certainly held no dislike for the power it granted to her, bolstering her strength. She had not wished to upset and turn her followers against her, denying her such sensations, and the warning she had issued had been vague at best, indirect to the point of confusion to the simple man and woman. But that was why she had spoken her message into the ear of the priests of her Temples; they would relay it to the people in means and words they could grasp._

_Her words had been twisted, and she realised belatedly that she had been made to look as though she condoned the actions of her followers. Only the afflictions that overwhelmed the people now spread faster than Palutena's misinterpreted message across the land. _

_She had watched in horror as her followers rose up against Medusa's and tore down her Temples, slaying the worshippers at their sacred altar and staining it with their blood. _

_She didn't tell her sister what had happened; there was no other means for her to look down upon the world below but for the reflecting pool. And Palutena had barred the entrance. She doubled and tripled the strength of the seal upon the doors and kept her peace. Medusa said nothing and did not act in any way that drew Palutena's suspicion, but now as she looked down upon the world, fear began to creep in._

_The Elders had forbidden them from setting foot upon the Overworld. The delicate nature of their power was such that it would tear the fabric of the world's existence with every moment that they dwelt within it, threatening to throw it into imbalance. Man would not survive to look upon them, for their glory was beyond mortal comprehension. The greatest King of their land was nothing before the Goddesses. They were to overlook the world below from their abode in Skyworld, and to commune with humankind through the voice of those they deemed worthy to bear their message._

_Palutena had made a grave mistake, but she feared that Medusa had broken the law of the beings who were beyond _their_ comprehension. There was no other way, no other explanation for the chaos that had been wrought upon Man. Her sister had overstepped._

_Palutena sought the counsel of the Elders and found them enraged at Medusa's actions. She trembled before them as the wind fled at the ferocity of their collective voice; it relieved her immensely when their suffocating presence finally left her. They had given her permission to descend to Overworld; they would hold the seams of the world together as the two Goddesses of Skyworld existed where they should not._

_She found her sister eventually, disguised as an abnormally large crow. She carried death upon broad wings, and the land over which she cast her shadow wilted. _

_It had taken her some time, and with each moment she felt the heat of the Elders' anger against her back. She struck Medusa without warning or words, drawing the darkness from the depths of her heart and inflicting it upon her. The Elders pulled her back up to the domain of Skyworld even as they cast Medusa to the black pit of the Underworld. _

_She had wept bitterly for her sister when she returned to the Temple – now her Temple – for she had seen what Medusa had become, her form twisted and disfigured into something so grotesque that the very land around them had shrivelled and died in her presence._

_The peace of Skyworld did not settle upon the world below it; Palutena did her best to correct the actions of her sister, but Medusa's designs were wicked, knots upon knots that Palutena simply could not undo. The people had cried out for help, and she could not answer them._

**xXx**

"You hunted me down like an animal", Medusa snarled into Palutena's face. "And then you struck me with a coward's blow".

The Goddess struggled weakly against her sister's tight grip around her throat. "You went too far", she rasped.

"No", Medusa said, "not I. It is you who erred, sister".

Medusa's grip tightened about her throat and Palutena thought herself to be mere moments from death, but then her sister snarled and cast her away. Palutena slumped to the ground as her back hit the opposite wall. Medusa stood on the other side of the bars, a shadow with depths unfathomable and fire in her stark white eyes.

"You will suffer here", her sister reminded her. "You took my life, but I will take so much more from you, Palutena".

The prison door slammed shut and the metallic clang reverberated off the cold, damp walls. Palutena lay motionless for a long moment as the shadow once again struck up its onslaught upon her mind. But something was different; Palutena pushed herself up onto her hands with some difficulty, lank hair hanging before her face as she breathed heavily.

Pit's voice rang in her ear where before it had only whispered. The Goddess paused as understanding slowly began to trickle in, and then she took a deep breath.

Screwing her eyes tightly shut, Palutena pushed.

**xXx**

Phosphora handed the purple crystal shard to the Goddess, who took it and brought it close to her face, gazing intently into its depths. It wasn't the first time Viridi had inspected it since Phosphora had returned to her side; she was deeply curious as to what it may be, though neither of them could come to a definite conclusion. Viridi had mentioned the first time that she thought she recognised the insignia etched into it, though it was incomplete. The shard looked to be one half of a whole.

Upon her return to Skyworld, Phosphora had almost been floored when she had laid eyes upon Palutena's Temple. The structure was the work of hands far more skilled than the great builders of humankind, and the material by which it was built of great strength and resilience. Yet that clearly hadn't stopped Medusa and Viridi from tearing through its walls during the course of their battle.

The Goddess had made the futile attempt to hide her wound from Phosphora, predicting her reaction accurately as the nymph's eyes widened and she immediately vowed to remain at Viridi's side night and day. Viridi brushed off this suggestion, however; as much as Phosphora was her right hand, it would not be productive for her to be glued to her Goddess' side as she so intended. The wound had not healed as quickly as the Goddess expected however; Phosphora picked up on this even if Viridi did not explicitly tell her so. A dark line ran down the Goddess' side, Phosphora saw, before Viridi had a chance to repair her garb.

"I will be fine", she had insisted even whilst Phosphora turned on the angels and demanded to know why Medusa's presence in Skyworld had not been detected sooner.

No one had any answers for her, and it surprised her to find that even her Goddess was stumped. Viridi flatly refused the offer of protection from Ivorie and the members of the royal guard, who came before the Goddess meekly after having endured Phosphora's scolding words. Phosphora ensured that they remained on hand regardless.

She and the Goddess had spent a large amount of time in the observation room, which remained intact, for the most part looking down upon the battle within the city to which Phosphora had led the Forces of Nature. They were trained to fight without a commanding figure present on the battlefield itself, Viridi taking the command over them when Phosphora had left to return to her side, directing the forces telepathically. The Underworld army was hard pressed to fight the battle on two fronts; the push Phosphora had initially led served to break the Underworld's forces against the city walls.

They had shifted their gaze several times to the battle to the east outside the large, dark set castle. The human army fought fiercely here, and at times were managing to grind down the Underworld forces, pushing them back across the battlefield. But the numbers of the Underworld hardly seemed to dip; every time Phosphora looked at the castle itself, she felt her suspicions gnawing at her.

Viridi turned the shard over in her fingers. "Hmm, I swear to you I recognise this symbol. I just can't quite place it".

"Considering where I found it, it could always just be something of trivial value", Phosphora said, once again voicing a doubt that had crossed her mind often over the past few hours.

"No, I don't think so", Viridi said. She gave it another intense look before passing it back to the nymph; she had suggested Phosphora hold onto it until they could be sure what it was.

"Our forces should be able to push the Underworld from this city soon", Viridi said as she returned her gaze to the reflecting pool. "The Underworld's lack of cohesion amuses me. I would have thought its mistress would take the reins once you slew the commander there, but I suppose she was busy", the Goddess quipped.

Phosphora did not smile; it concerned her that Viridi's earlier words had proven true concerning Medusa. The Goddess had been able to stand toe to toe with Viridi, even if for just a moment. Phosphora knew that were she in Medusa's position, she would have gauged Viridi's strength and bolstered her own to match and then outmatch it. She would then return with all swiftness to finish what she had begun. She had almost immediately expressed this concern to the Goddess when she had told her Medusa had escaped.

"When she returns, we will be ready", Viridi had said in reply. Phosphora certainly did not miss the Goddess' use of 'we'.

"Once our forces have pushed the Underworld beyond the walls and boundaries of the city, I will withdraw them", Viridi said. "The humans had better not get used to our aid in such matters. From there, we'll have to see what Medusa –"

A knock upon the great doors interrupted the Goddess; both she and Phosphora looked up, the latter moving forward to pull open the doors at Viridi's gesture. Ivorie stood at the threshold, her pale skin seeming to have grown ghostly as she bowed to the Goddess but did not step into the room.

"Lady Viridi, an Underworld army has stepped foot into Skyworld. They are approaching the city".

"Medusa has returned already?" Phosphora said incredulously, turning to Viridi.

"No, the forces do not seem to be led by the Goddess Medusa", Ivorie said. "Our Centurion lookouts are unable to identify who exactly is leading them, however".

"How far are they?" Phosphora asked.

"Two to three hours, I would hazard, my La – Phosphora".

Viridi came to the nymph's side, collecting her staff as she moved around the basin of the reflecting pool. "Phosphora, gather and organize our forces in and around the city. Meet me at the peak of the hill to the south. I want the angels in the southernmost districts moved north immediately", she instructed Ivorie swiftly.

The angel bowed her head. "Of course, Lady Viridi".

Tucking her helm underneath her arm, Phosphora and the Goddess followed the angel out the room, Ivorie breaking into a run when Viridi barked at her. After turning to seal the doors shut, the Goddess and the nymph strode briskly through the Temple towards its exit.

"Lady Viridi –", Phosphora began as they emerged into the light of day, but the Goddess cut her off.

"I will be fine", she reiterated once again. "Besides, there is little choice. Go, ready our forces".

The nymph paused and then nodded, turning away and moving towards the steps that led down to the street below.

"Phosphora", Viridi called as she descended. Turning, she found the Goddess smirking at her.

"You can be annoyingly persistent sometimes", she said, "but I'm glad you're here".

Phosphora grinned after a moment and gave an exaggerated bow before continuing down the steps. Viridi raised an eyebrow and shook her head a moment later.

"Too much time spent with that angel", she observed as she proceeded down the steps.


	10. Chapter 10

The approaching Underworld forces took her attention as Viridi stood at the crest of the hill, her staff in hand as she looked down across the plains, waiting. While they were yet some distance away, Viridi's eye had immediately taken note of the solid sea of black that drew towards her. Her gaze was sharp, and she recognised them as the same manner of being she and Phosphora had first seen in the reflecting pool; the approaching army was made up completely of them.

A small frown had creased Viridi's brow when she acknowledged this detail. Phosphora had reported to her after returning to Skyworld that these soldiers in particular had caught her eye; they fought with a sense of cohesion and precisely guided aggression that far surpassed that of the other Underworld creatures.

Their numbers had been small within the force that had attacked the city, and Phosphora had concluded that Medusa had either been testing her new brand of soldier, or that she simply did not possess enough numbers of them. If the forces had been made up entirely of them, she admitted, her attack upon the Underworld army would most likely not have had the same degree of success.

The composition of the force that approached indicated clearly to Viridi the Underworld Queen's intentions, and the swiftness with which she had sent them more than underpinned her desire to see the Goddess of Nature fall. She had not expected Medusa to be leading these forces towards her now, though it took her a moment to recognise the being that walked at the head of the army in her stead. She arched her brow as she was finally able to recall his name and position.

Feeling a presence at her shoulder, she turned her head to find Phosphora taking her place at her right hand. The nymph clutched her silver helm in the crook of her arm, aside from it fully armoured.

Viridi heard at her back the footfalls of her gathered children coming up the hill; she cast a quick glance over her shoulder and swiftly gauged their numbers. Before she turned back to the oncoming Underworld forces, Viridi's eyes were drawn upwards as she heard the distinctive beat of wings pumping through the air. Ivorie alighted gently behind her, tucking her vast wings behind her back as other angels alighted in her wake as she stepped forwards.

"Lady Viridi, with your permission, I would pledge the strength of Skyworld's angels to your cause", Ivorie said as she lowered herself to one knee before the Goddess.

Viridi looked up at the angels gathered behind her. "You are all able?"

"Yes. Not all angels take it upon themselves to learn how to fight, but I assure you that we who are gathered here are all capable".

Viridi nodded. "Then I accept your strength", she said. "Though I hope that you speak the truth; my children will not hesitate to overtake you if you prove worthless on the battlefield".

Ivorie blinked at that and hesitated a moment as she rose; Viridi did not have time for soft words when faced with the reality of battle.

"I see Medusa has enough of those soldiers now to compose her army solely of them", Phosphora noted. "What will you do, Lady Viridi?"

"First, I want to ask why the God of Death is leading them", she replied over the loudening footfalls of the marching army as they drew closer.

"The God of Death?" Phosphora said as her eyes raked over the army. "I can assume that is him, there. Pardon me, Lady Viridi, but he looks…peculiar".

"That he does", Viridi agreed. "But he and I were among the first of the Gods".

Phosphora frowned. "Then…but, I assumed this army was sent by Medusa. She, as I understand it, is the ruler of the Underworld…and the God of Death is at _her_ beck and call?"

"Precisely", Viridi said. "That domain should not belong to her".

The Underworld forces came to a stop some way off from the foot of the hill the Goddess of Nature stood upon. The bulky form of the God of Death seemed to waddle forward as he moved away from the ranks of soldiers at his back, though a number of them broke away in unison from the front line and followed in his wake, reforming themselves into four columns three deep that stood to either side of the God's shoulders.

"Seems like he wants to talk too", Phosphora said.

"Come", the Goddess said, beckoning also the angels at her back. Ivorie walked behind her left shoulder, though she allowed a respectable distance between herself and the Goddess, her fellow angels following in her wake. Phosphora tucked herself behind Viridi's right, lifting her silver helm to her head as they walked down the hill.

It was a strange notion to her, but the Goddess felt empowered with Phosphora at her side. It had been a long time since they had walked towards a battle together in this fashion. The nymph's presence served as an anchor for Viridi, reminding her of the things she had fought for in the past. Phosphora's life; her own life, and for the preservation of the Forest, her home. Several times, she had come close to losing one of them; the Gods of old had fought fiercely, but she had held on when it mattered the most.

"Thanatos", Viridi called as she came to a stop at the foot of the hill. The exuberantly garbed God gave a bow, though the girth of his stomach made the motion look clumsy and threatened to unbalance him.

"Viridi, such a pleasure to meet you again", the God returned. "We have not graced each other's company in years, decades, centuries!"

"I find myself grateful for such a thing".

"Oh, you do wound me", Thanatos said, folding thick, stubby arms to his chest as though to cradle himself.

"Why are you here, Thanatos?" Viridi drove the question home without pause.

"Are the formalities out of the way already?" the God gasped. "It has been so long since I entertained one of our number; I do hope my manners are of a respectable standard…"

Viridi waited; Thanatos chuckled after a long moment of silence was drawn between them.

"Why, Viridi, I am sent at the request of my mistress", he said.

"Your _mistress_?" Viridi repeated, her eyes narrowing. "You are as old as I, Thanatos. Medusa should not be your master".

"Ah, but I'm afraid that is truly the case", the God said emphatically, nodding his head. "Her power and ambition is something which I could not _help_ but pledge myself to".

"What is at work here, Thanatos?"

The God cringed. "Oh, Viridi, please do not glare at me so fiercely", he whined. "I speak nothing but truth, my dear!"

Viridi opened her mouth to speak once more and Phosphora narrowed her eyes. Her attention had been caught so completely by the manner of the God of Death that she had not taken stock of the circumstances at hand. Her gaze had merely grazed over the armoured soldiers that stood at Thanatos' back, drawn wholly to the strange being himself. His manner of appearance and behaviour certainly did not to her eyes warrant his position; what he was contradicted so garishly the nature of the power he was called to govern. So completely fascinated by him was Phosphora that she had not noticed the shape of his shadow.

Her eyes fell to it now, however; her brow creased as her sharp gaze fell upon it and she noticed slowly that it did not entirely match his features. Where he was notably thick of gut, the shadow was slimmer and built of a shape that Phosphora would associate with an armoured being. Atop the God's head sat a lopsided skull, from its sides extending two small horns that curved upwards to its pale crown. But the shadow…Phosphora looked closely; twin horns protruded directly from the shadow's head, thick and relatively straight. As Viridi spoke, the shadow turned.

But Thanatos had not moved.

Before any of them could react, the shadow contorted and suddenly burst upwards from the ground as molten darkness. The darkness rapidly took shape, the bulky form of a metallic torso rising up into being as its limbs grew from its shoulders even before they had properly solidified. Phosphora's astute eye was able to capture the event better than anyone else's in the vicinity and she saw hands sheathed in dark metal grip the body of a huge bow that formed along with it. She had barely formed the intention to move as a black arrow was loosed from the weapon.

The bolt tore through the air and punched straight into Viridi's stomach. Time seemed to move sluggishly for Phosphora as she turned with parted lips to see her Goddess lifted off her feet and thrown backwards.

**xXx**

_The pain was unlike anything she had ever experienced; she felt as though someone had brutally torn a chunk of her torso away. The passage of Time lost its meaning for her as she dimly remembered soaring through the sky, a flash of blinding light, and then she had felt the impact of the ground tearing through her shoulders and surging down her back. She couldn't feel her fingers, couldn't feel her toes, and there was a thick, acrid taste upon her tongue._

_"Phosphora!"_

_She barely heard it, her name being called. She didn't know who it was that called to her and couldn't think to tell where it had originated from; it puzzled her that the voice called her name with such desperation._

_"Phosphora!"_

_It was a little clearer this time; a young girl's voice. Perhaps it was one of her sisters who called to her…but that couldn't be. Her sisters were dead._

_"Phosphora!"_

_She heard the voice again, ever clearer, and found her own lips moving without her full intention._

_"Vir…idi?" she croaked._

_The sound of feet pounding across the ground came to her hearing, and she heard the song of metal as broken armour was kicked aside, bouncing and skittering to a place unknown as the Goddess sped towards her._

_She managed to push the name past her lips once more, though her voice was barely a whisper. "Viridi?" _

_The Goddess fell to her knees at her side, grabbing hold of her limp hands. Phosphora looked up and saw that the Goddess' young face was lined with worry, her eyes wide with shock as she squeezed the hands between hers._

_"Phosphora, don't you dare die", she told her fiercely. "Everything is going to be okay, I promise you"._

_Phosphora watched Viridi's eyes as they darted repeatedly from her face to her torso, a dull, throbbing pain beginning to spread from somewhere just above her waist. She gasped softly and the Goddess' eyes immediately rose to her face._

_"Don't you dare die", Viridi told her as she leaned forward and with a shaking hand clumsily stroked her cheek. "Do you hear me, Phosphora? Don't you even think about it!"_

_Phosphora tried to smile, but the shape of her mouth was twisted as the sensation of pain intensified and began to burn through her. She coughed and tasted the blood that bubbled past her lips._

_"I think…I think it's time", she said thickly. "I hope…fought well…Viridi"._

_"Shut up!" Viridi snapped at Phosphora, and then she turned to the battle being waged in the distance. "SHUT UP!"_

_Phosphora did not see it, but she felt the earth torn asunder by the Goddess' power. She heard the shouts of men as they met a sudden, brutal demise. And then Viridi was cradling her head in her lap, commanding her to stay focused and listen to every word she spoke. _

_She was aware of her body being lifted a few moments later, though it did not appear to be the Goddess' arms that carried her. She tried her hardest to obey the Goddess' command as a column of golden light formed about her. She finally blacked out as she felt herself drawn upwards._

_"Phosphora!"_

**xXx**

She had learned later on that it had been an arrow that had felled her from the skies above the warring armies of Viridi and Man. An arrow fashioned by the Goddess Palutena with the express purpose of bringing her to within an inch of her life. She would have died a painful death and finally been reunited with the stars of her sisters' souls, but Viridi had saved her. The Goddess had sacrificed her great pride to keep Phosphora by her side; she had turned her hand of destruction away from Man to preserve Phosphora's life.

_From this moment, you will hold me accountable to every word I speak concerning you…_

Phosphora remembered; she knew the depths of Viridi's hatred for humankind, but after that day and since then, Viridi had not raised her hand against them. At times, when Phosphora grew still and pondered it, she could not fathom why the Goddess had given up so much simply to have her at her side. It was something deep and complex, she knew; it had to be, though neither of them had ever put a name to it.

As she watched the Goddess fall, she felt the grip upon her heart, tight and unyielding, drawing from her the purest of anger. It blazed white with heat, and its knife edge cut her skin as she took hold of it.

The daughter of the wind lifted her voice to the heavens.

**xXx**

Ivorie stared in utter shock at the form of the Goddess upon the ground in their midst. The dark shaft of the arrow jutted out from her stomach, and a rasping gasp was drawn from the Goddess' lips as she tried to draw breath. There was silence, a perfect stillness that overtook them all for a moment as all eyes turned to the fallen Goddess. And then the plains before her and the hill upon which she stood darkened. Overhead, thick black clouds rolled across the sky, forebodingly pregnant. Ivorie's eyes looked up from the form of the Goddess as she caught movement at the corner of her vision.

Fear sliced through her then as she saw Phosphora draw herself up to her full height; the young woman blinked once, and when her lids lifted her amethyst eyes were shining white with power. She turned her gaze on Ivorie and it was all the angel could do not to shy away from her.

"Protect the Goddess. Get her back to the Temple, now!"

As though her voice were the signal, the roar of battle was lifted to the darkened sky and Ivorie was deafened by the multitude of footfalls as the Underworld army surged forward. She watched as Phosphora leapt forwards, faster than thought, soaring in an arc directly towards the God of Death and the half formed being that had been born of his shadow. Lightning blasted down from the heavens and struck Phosphora mid-flight, shrouding her in its power.

Ivorie threw a hand across her eyes as the ground exploded, throwing earth and stone every which way. With a collective bellow, the Forces of Nature surged past her. When she moved her hand away, she saw a protective line forming between the fallen Goddess and the approaching Underworld soldiers, foes she had never laid eyes upon.

She snapped into action then, quickly identifying four angels and directing them to carry the Goddess, the rest she called to her side as the Underworld smashed into the Forces of Nature. Motes of light were drawn rapidly to her outstretched hand, and within a few moments she held her weapon at the ready, a wide broadsword with a fearsome edge. Her right hand slipped through the straps of a broad silver shield as she summoned it into being, and she shouted out to the angels at her back as she lowered her weight.

One of the armoured soldiers punctured the line of Blader that stood before Ivorie and headed straight for the Goddess in the angels' arms. Ivorie intercepted its path, smashing her shield into its body and as it staggered backwards with arms flailing, drove her sword into the joint of armour at its thigh. The creature's scream of pain was lost in the din of battle and the blade of another angel cut it down as Ivorie turned away.

The deafening clap of thunder and the blinding light of a jagged tongue of lightning drew her attention as she saw the blazing star Phosphora had become clash fiercely with the glowing form of a wingless green dragon. She saw no sign of the black creature that had fired the arrow into Viridi's stomach, but nevertheless, Phosphora attacked the God of Death with fury, dashing through the sky at dizzying speed.

Lightning tore across the heavens as the nymph and the God rose higher, the latter forced to twist and turn away from the hungry tongues of sizzling power as Phosphora carved the sky. The God narrowly avoided a blast of lightning that instead tore through the edge of a floating islet, raining down smoking chunks upon the army below.

An angel fell at her shoulder with a shout of pain as a Reaver drove its spear into his chest. It drew a blade as it turned on Ivorie, who parried its upward slice, turning the creature aside with its own momentum before smashing her shield across its face. Her scarlet hair fanned out wildly behind her as she thrust her sword into the Reaver's gorget, the strength in her arm enough to pierce and drive through the yielding flesh of the neck beneath.

She pondered briefly for a moment the feel of the creature's flesh against her sword, but as another Reaver burst through the line established by the Forces of Nature with several of its brethren in tow, Ivorie cast her curiosity aside. She gave yet another shout to the angels as they retreated up the incline of the hill, the Goddess hissing painfully in their midst.

Overhead, Phosphora's eyes burned white hot as she wrestled with Thanatos. The God had sheathed himself in a potent energy that enabled him to survive clashing with her electric aura. She had gathered pure lightning about herself and wielded it with a fury she had never known herself to possess. She did not ponder it, however, she simply chased after the God of Death with the sole intention of ripping the beast that hid within his shadow from his being.

The dragon Thanatos had fashioned about himself opened its jaws to consume her as she lanced towards him. She altered her path a fraction and slipped by its teeth, lashing out with the edge of her palm at his gut. Thanatos took the brunt of her strike and the energy sheathing his form flared intensely, fizzling out entirely for the smallest moment before spluttering back to life.

She arced through the air as Thanatos flicked the dragon's tail at her passing form, drawing down a lance of electricity from the heavens above. She vividly heard the God shriek as he tucked his head to his chest and the bolt of lightning sheared through the neck of the dragon, parting its head cleanly from its thick body.

The God's manner served to incense her further, and Phosphora rose high and then plummeted towards him as he pushed energy to the front of his aura and reformed the dragon's head, larger and wider than before. She rolled easily through the air as he threw the dragon's gaping maw towards her, her hand piercing through the resistance of his shining aura and her fingers finding their grip amongst the wrinkled folds of his garb.

She heard him cry out as she whirled and then rose through the air at speed, pulling the God forwards as she worked the strength of her shoulder and slammed him into the body of a lone, empty islet.

The islet splintered down its centre and then broke apart, the two irregular halves sent spinning haphazardly through the air. Not yet finished with him, Phosphora endured the heavy shock that surged up the length of her arm from the impact and kept her grip tight upon Thanatos.

Calling to the heavens, lightning forked down and hit her. She channelled its power straight through from the crown of her head to the digits wrapped in the God's garb. Thanatos screamed and chattered nonsensically as electricity flooded his flailing body.

She cast him from her then with a grunt of disgust, watching him plummet rapidly to the ground below swarming with the Underworld forces with narrowed, glowing eyes. A snarl left her lips as she blasted down after him, becoming a bolt of lightning herself.

She lanced into the God mere moments after he hit the ground, the force of his impact splintering its surface. She glimpsed a shapeless black form peel away from him just before she struck him, driving the sole of her boot to the visage that had irked her so with the speed and power of her blindingly fast descent behind it.

The skull attached to the top of his head exploded. Phosphora heard a wet crunch as Thanatos' body jerked upwards into the air. The force of her impact sent ripples along his flesh and Phosphora channelled electricity through herself – a moment later, the God's body suddenly burst apart at the seams.

A purple glint flashed by Phosphora's eyes and her hand whipped out before the thought had risen to the forefront of her mind. She did not look at it immediately, her eyes rising to follow the path of the smoky black substance that fled from the battle with all haste.

She would have launched herself upwards in pursuit of it if she had not heard the rumbling drone of several Belunka behind her.

Lifting her foot away from the ruin of the God of Death's corpse and turning, Phosphora's eyes receded to their original amethyst hue and narrowed as she watched the vast creatures manoeuvre themselves from behind the floating islets afar off, their great mouths opening and spewing purple mist into the air. Even as she turned away to look towards the hill, a vast number of the Underworld army's typical creatures were spawning from the mouths of the Belunka, soaring down to join the battle.

Upon the hill, her eyes were immediately drawn to the white of the angels' garb and the flying scarlet hair of the one who stood at their centre, valiantly pressing back the persistent Reavers. The angels who carried Viridi between them had almost reached the crest of the hill, but the Reavers were bearing down upon them, threatening to encircle them as the line of the angels was stretched thin and the Forces of Nature fell before their spears and swords.

Phosphora's jaw tightened; it would haunt her forever to abandon Viridi in the pursuit of the one who had struck her down. She would remember its face. With all haste, she sped towards the hill.

It would only occur to her much later that she had slain a God.

Ivorie hissed as the burn of fatigue spread through her limbs, but they were far from in the clear; the Reavers were closing in on them and threatening to overtake them entirely, cutting off their path down the other side of the hill and into the city beyond. She heard the pained moans of the Goddess held in the trembling arms of the angels at her back as she was forced backwards by the seeking thrusts of a Reaver's spear.

"Ivorie, we won't make it!"

"We have no choice!" she snapped at the angel at her shoulder, a young man with bloodied fingers as he drew the tight string of his bow back once more and let fly a golden arrow. "If we must, then our lives will be spent to protect Lady Viridi".

"She is not our Goddess to protect", the angel reminded her.

"Were it not for her, there wouldn't be a Skyworld to protect!"

A spear tip grazed over the edge of her shield as she lifted it just in time, though she heard a gasp at her back as it sliced into the shoulder of the angel behind her. She cried out as she batted the Reaver's arm aside and drove her sword into its gut, kicking it away a moment later to tumble limply into its brethren.

Lightning suddenly arced down from overhead as she hefted her shield once more, cutting a swath through their darkly armoured foe. Ivorie yelped as Phosphora landed suddenly before her, crushing a Reaver beneath her in the process as she straightened her back and blasted electricity into the Underworld ranks.

"Get going!" Phosphora shouted over her shoulder. "Move!"

Like Viridi, Phosphora had gauged the numbers of their forces and upon seeing that which the Underworld first presented, frowned with concern. They were outnumbered by almost three to one, and they were not faced with a scrappy, poorly coordinated force.

The Reavers were trained well and their sense of cohesion impeccable; they made quick work of the creatures of the Forces of Nature when they set upon them. On top of that, the reinforcements spawned from the Belunka high above the battlefield were beginning to make their presence felt. Phosphora knew that even to make it to the Temple to get Viridi to safety was not enough; their forces were being spread thin before the face of the enemy.

Sensing the angels moving clear of her, she cried out to the heavens and a flurry of lightning answered to her call. The hill exploded around her, scorched earth and the flailing bodies of the Reavers cast into the air. Her chest burned with fatigue and she lamented even as she drew deep and lifted her voice once more to the sky. However, this time it was not lightning that answered her.

A beam of focused golden light split the dark clouds and lanced into the plains beyond the hill, unlike her lightning lingering for a long moment as it swept east before fizzling out. Phosphora spared the smallest moment to pause in shock.

Another beam of light punched through the clouds, and then another almost immediately, both sweeping across the battlefield and vaporising all they touched, armoured or otherwise.

Phosphora heard a strange, deep drone high above as several more beams of light lanced down from on high and cut huge swaths through the Underworld ranks, gouging smoking lines into the ground. The lines flared red with heat even as the beams of light fizzled out.

As she lifted her face, she saw strange, thick grey arrows fall through the clouds, though they were not angled appropriately. Suddenly, flames burst from their ends and they surged forward through the air at great speed, disappearing into the giant mouths of the Belunka.

The clouds rolled aside as the shrill cry of the Belunka reached Phosphora's ear, along with the deafening thunder of an explosion. She looked up to see rolling flames and black smoke pouring from the mouths of the creatures as they fell to the ground far below.

Her eyes widened as the moon itself parted the clouds above her, its smooth surface golden and lined with black trenches. The focused beams of light lanced out from their depths, and Phosphora leapt backwards in fear as a crimson pillar sliced down the hill, reducing the armoured Reavers to nothing more than scorched dust upon the air in a mere moment.

Several more of the fire propelled arrows dropped from the dark recesses of the trenches and sped towards the remaining Belunka, a trio of them somehow altering their paths around the floating islets in the sky and striking the creatures' vast jaws.

Phosphora stared open-mouthed at the destruction wrought before her. In merely seconds, the moon reduced the Underworld army to ash.

* * *

**A/N**: Well now, what do we have here? Who is this _mysterious_ saviour, I wonder? : )

If you couldn't tell by virtue of how violently I killed him off, I really don't have a liking for Thanatos. Personally, I think he was an irritating pain in the ass from start to finish in Uprising, and I was quite pleased when Phosphora did away with him. Gaol should have officially acted as Medusa's right hand, in my opinion, but alas that was not to be.

Still, I'm sure Phosphora enjoyed stomping on his face as much as I enjoyed writing it ^^


	11. Chapter 11

The cry of a travailing woman filled the walls of the prison, driving back the darkness with the purity of her ragged shout. Fraught with and maddened by pain, she pushed as hard as she could, wanting nothing more than to get the thing out of her. She clutched her head as a new cry burst from her lips, her fingers tangled in her lank hair and pressing hard into her skin. She could feel it slipping out of her, little by little. It clung tightly to her, desperately fighting her efforts, but she was too far gone now. The pain, the splitting, hot pain served as her anchor to the one desire that she clung to in her desperation.

The shadow shrieked at her as it was forced to give ground before the Goddess' sheer will and determination. Its flailing claws found no purchase within her, the surface of her mind becoming a steep incline down which it slipped inexorably.

It used the voice it knew she hated to hear, its insults turned to desperate begging as it sought to beguile her. But the Goddess would have none of it; she pushed harder, crying out as the shadow tore at her with its claws as it was shoved to the boundaries of her mind. Her head felt as though great weights were pressing in on her from every angle, the pressure behind her eyes mounting with every second.

But she would not give up, not now. On her knees, she clutched her head tighter than ever before and bowed her face as she _pushed_.

Her eyes which were once screwed shut as she fought through the pain, suddenly burst open and were overtaken in an instant by darkness. At the same time, her lips parted wide and golden light illuminated the back of her throat. Darkness poured from her eyes, and at the same time golden sparks streamed out from her mouth. The Goddess swayed momentarily before keeling over onto her side.

The shadow slipped through the bars of the cell first, its darkness somehow distinct and solid within that of the room itself. The golden motes of light coalesced as they floated towards the bars, swiftly taking on a spherical shape. The shadow seemed to rear as the ball of light cast its glow within the room, in the next moment rushing forwards and encompassing it.

The ball vibrated in the air as dark hooks attempted to carve into its depths. After a few moments of enduring the shadow's onslaught, the glow of the sphere suddenly intensified, casting brilliant rays of light into the dark recesses of the room. When its light gradually dimmed, the shadow remained no more.

The Goddess slowly lifted her head, her eyes returned to their emerald green. She looked upon the golden sphere as it hovered silently in the air just beyond her bars and a smile found its way to her cracked lips. Her arms shook as she used them to bear her weight, pulling herself up off the ground.

She dragged herself over to the bars of the cell and pushed an arm between them, lifting her fingers to the glowing orb. Her eyes shone with white light after a moment of stillness, and that light seemed to pulse along her arm, several channels ultimately leading to the fingertips that brushed the golden orb. She removed her hand after a few moments, feeling a crushing sense of weariness settle upon her and almost threaten to drive her into unconsciousness. She leaned back against the cold wall, lifting her eyes. She smiled even as her eyelids briefly drooped.

Pit gazed at his hands in wonder; he was alive. But surely that was impossible.

He vividly recalled being held before Medusa in the grasp of her shadows, a single tendril rising up towards him before shooting forwards and plunging deep into his chest.

He turned his hands over; he remembered now a different battle, one fought in vain against a formless shadow. He remembered hearing a voice that he knew so well, but yet could not identify. The voice had called to him, but he knew not who to answer to and the shadow had quenched his shout when he had tried.

"Pit."

His eyes grew moist even before he lifted them to meet hers. She looked so weak, so tired. Dark shadows had gathered beneath her eyes, and her long green tresses hung limp and matted with dirt about her face. She sat awkwardly against the wall, the rise of her chest pronounced as though she struggled to take in each breath. Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Pit felt the tears fall hot against his cheeks as he blinked. He moved towards her but then belatedly noticed the metal bars that separated them, thick and mottled grey. An anger arose from deep within his core and before Pit could think otherwise, he found each hand gripping the hilt of a curved golden dagger, a trio of bars falling noisily to the ground as he sliced through their lengths. He stepped over the stumps of metal that remained, ducking his head as he moved into the cell. She weakly lifted her arms to him. He fell to his knees before her, tears falling without restraint.

They embraced then, the Goddess and her angel reunited at last.

"Lady Palutena, I'm sorry", Pit whispered into her shoulder. "I failed you".

"You have never failed me, Pit", she returned in a small voice.

He clung to her tightly, and she did not let him go. They parted eventually, and Pit sat back on his knees and closed his eyes as Palutena lifted her hands to his face and gently tilted his brow towards her lips, kissing him softly.

"I failed you", she said to him with a voice he could barely hear. She leaned back against the wall and her shoulders slumped.

Pit shook his head emphatically. "No, Lady Palutena. You're faultless in this".

She smiled bitterly, shaking her head in a small movement. "I have made my mistakes".

Pit was worried; he had rescued the Goddess from imprisonment once before, but she had almost certainly not looked this bad at that time. Her face was pale and drawn, her body limp and her eyes lacking their lustre. Pit tentatively reached forwards and took the Goddess' hand between his own.

"Lady Palutena, what's wrong? You don't look well".

Her eyes turned to him and a smile rose to her mouth. The quip that left her lips died and trailed off into an incomprehensible murmur, the Goddess' strength waning by the moment. After a short time, she gathered herself once again.

"Pit, Medusa took your soul from your body and fashioned some kind of shadow from it. She forced the shadow upon me and it has tortured my mind ceaselessly. I managed to extricate it – to get it out", she explained with a small smile when Pit gazed at her blankly. She squeezed his hand affectionately.

"The light of your soul banished the darkness of Medusa's shadow, but that was all you could be. The spark of a soul. Medusa destroyed your body, but I used my remaining power to grant you a new one. I hope it fits", she added. Pit couldn't help but return her smile. But the smile faded as he looked at her again and saw the weakness that plagued her.

"Your…remaining power?"

Palutena closed her eyes then and drew a ragged breath. "Pit, I am sorry to burden you so quickly, but I need to be rid of this place. I have been away from the light of Skyworld for too long. Medusa has wrapped her darkness thick around me…I won't last long if I remain here, Pit".

Pit was already getting to his feet before the Goddess had finished. "Of course, Lady Palutena".

He ducked and gently took hold of her arm, hesitating when he realised that he would need to put an arm around her waist to support her.

"I – uh…"

She grasped his wrist and pulled his arm around her. "Pit, I think it's a little late to be embarrassed".

"Ah, right", he said, cheeks warming ever so slightly. "Wait, how - ?"

His answer came a moment later when a key turned in the lock of the prison door.

**xXx**

Viridi groaned as the angels lowered her to the bed of the grass that the Goddess – even in her pain – had caused to grow a moment before, spreading eagerly to carpet the room. Phosphora cried out as Viridi gripped the black shaft of the arrow, hissing pre-emptively. The nymph leapt forward, but the Goddess had already pulled the arrow from her stomach, giving a shout of pain as the arrowhead burst from her flesh.

"Lady Viridi!" Phosphora said as she knelt quickly at the Goddess' side.

"I'll be fine", Viridi said in a strained voice. She lifted the arrow before her eyes, turning it in her hand for a moment before tossing it aside.

Without thinking, Phosphora reached forward and moved her hand to the back of the Goddess' head as she saw her trying to sit up. Phosphora paused when she realised what she had done; Viridi made no sign that she thought anything ill of it. With Phosphora's tentative aid, the Goddess lifted her head and looked down at the wound at her stomach. Darkness stained its edges, small shadowy tendrils seeming to reach into the Goddess' body.

"Ah…" Viridi groaned as she screwed her eyes shut. Both she and Phosphora moved, meeting each other halfway. Phosphora grasped the small hand of the Goddess and she returned its squeeze.

"I'll…I'll be fine, Phosphora", Viridi assured her once the bout of pain had passed. "It's poison", she told the nymph. "I can feel it spreading".

"An antidote", Phosphora said, turning to glance at the angels behind her as though one of them had it on their person. "You need an antidote".

Viridi nodded. "Medusa's poison", she said shortly. "Only Palutena's Light can counteract it".

"Lady Viridi, we're not exactly in the position to –"

"I know", Viridi said with impatience. She paused then, squeezing the nymph's hand. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm not going to die, Phosphora".

Viridi lowered her free hand to the ground at her side and Phosphora felt the slight rumble through her knees as something split the stone and pushed upwards. She looked up as a large, closed flower head grew before her eyes, its folded petals the same shade of burgundy as Viridi's dress.

"Despite all that it may be forced to suffer", Viridi began to explain, "Nature will always recover. It simply takes time".

The Goddess lifted her hand and held it above her heart. "The poison seems to be purposefully concocted. It is feeding off my power and growing in potency. Take my hand".

Phosphora lifted her hand to meet the Goddess', looking blankly at the bulb of light that Viridi had seemed to draw from her chest. It burned brightly between them, sitting at the centre of Viridi's palm as it revolved slowly upon an invisible axis. Phosphora snatched her hand back a moment later. Understanding dawned upon her.

"Wait, Lady Viridi. You aren't planning on giving up your godhood", she said in a tone that made it more of a statement than a question.

The Goddess fixed her with a plain gaze. "Don't be ridiculous, Phosphora. I'm removing an excess of natural power from my body. Without its presence, the progression of the poison will be slowed".

"You're going to give me that power".

"Of course", Viridi said without pause. "Now, take my hand".

But Phosphora shuffled back on her knees. "Lady Viridi, it is not my place. Forgive me".

Viridi sighed, pressing her eyes shut for a moment. When she opened them again and turned to Phosphora, her gaze was unusually warm.

"Phosphora, I would have thought that you had realised by now", she said, frowning slightly. "I do not think of you simply as the commander of my armies, one of the sharpest minds and strongest beings I know. Nor do I think merely of you as one of the last of the nymphs, a rare being to whom I made an oath I shall never break".

She paused then, and after a moment, the corners of her lips curved and she gave a small smile. She spoke very softly.

"I think of you as my daughter, Phosphora. You are dear to me, and more than anyone else, I trust you".

Phosphora had no words to speak in reply. No thoughts rose to her mind that resonated with enough volume to be worth uttering. She lifted her hand to meet Viridi's when she offered it once more. The Goddess held her gently and Phosphora felt the warmth of the bulb of light as it sank into the flesh of her palm.

Pleasant heat spread from the point of her palm through her body, carried along its natural pathways. She felt it rise to the crown of her head, her cheeks growing flush; her fingertips tingled and the heat sat in the depths of her stomach, warming her core. She pressed her eyes shut and heard a shuddering sigh escape her lips a moment later.

"I…I feel strange", she admitted to the Goddess when she opened her eyes.

"I suppose it would be a heady sensation for you", Viridi said. "Perhaps now I should christen you –"

Phosphora winced in pain as she felt a flood of heat surge forth from her core, seeming to occupy every inch of her body. She curled forward with a sharp gasp as the Goddess' power spilled over the edges of her body's reservoir even as it struggled to adjust.

"Phosphora. Phosphora!"

She struggled to lift her head, her muscles pulled taut. She heard the crackle of electricity and felt her skin crawl uncomfortably. The Goddess grasped her hands tightly and demanded she meet her eyes.

"Phosphora, listen to me. No, listen!" she spoke over Phosphora when she moaned and shook her head. "I have given you this power. I trust you with it. Make it yours".

"I can't!"

"Do it!" Viridi commanded her fiercely.

Phosphora squeezed her eyes shut and dug deep even as electricity danced across her armour. Viridi held onto her hands firmly, and Phosphora realised that the Goddess was giving her even more reason to bring the power under her control. She would inadvertently destroy Viridi's form with it if she didn't, and quickly.

It was the hardest battle she had ever fought, reaching into herself and moulding the reservoir at her core anew before she literally exploded and killed the Goddess who had just confessed the truths of her heart to her. But she had to do it; she would not lose here.

Viridi lifted her hands to Phosphora's face, slick with the sheen of her effort, and held her eyes when she opened them. "I am proud to call you my own", she said.

Phosphora trembled; she only hoped the Goddess would mistake the tear rolling down her cheek for a rivulet of sweat.

Viridi gave a pained but knowing smile as she lowered her hands. "It is only a temporary well of power", she cautioned. "Unlike a God's, for you it will be finite. Be careful".

Phosphora nodded her understanding.

"Good. Now, help me up before I unwittingly perish here".

Phosphora helped the Goddess to her feet. A hiss of pain accompanied her steps over to the large burgundy flower head, the petals unfolding at her touch. Viridi stepped into it, slowly lowering herself into a sitting position at the centre of the flower, her hands dropping to her sides in a pose of concentration.

She gave a sigh as a number of pointed stems grew from beneath her and rose up to various points along her body, pressing their tips upon her skin. Several gathered at the tear in her flesh at her stomach, forming a ring about the wound. Phosphora noted that the stems pulsed periodically with light, that light feeding through to their tips and seemingly into Viridi's flesh.

The Goddess visibly seemed to relax and opened her eyes after a few moments. "I'm surprised you haven't made mention of Arlon yet", she said.

Phosphora raised her brow. "Arlon?"

Viridi pointed upwards, seemingly towards the ceiling. Phosphora followed her direction blankly for a moment before her eyes widened with understanding.

The golden moon had ceased its barrage upon the plains once the Underworld army had been entirely crushed before the power it wielded. It had then grown silent, merely hovering high above the city, the majority of its bulk still hidden in the clouds. She had glanced up at it frequently as she and the angels made for the Temple with all haste, unsure of whether to consider it friend or foe.

"That's him?" Phosphora asked with an incredulous tone.

Viridi managed a smirk. "Impressive, no? It's one of my best kept secrets. You should talk to him; he has some important information you'll need to hear".

"Alright…" Phosphora said, making as though to turn away.

"No, no", Viridi stopped her. "Phosphora, use your head".

Phosphora paused and then could not help but smirk at the Goddess' meaning. Viridi had essentially told her that the power she had siphoned off and given to her had granted her the status and strength of a Goddess, if only temporarily. Viridi could communicate with her no matter the distance that separated, so now Phosphora used the same ability to call to a friend she had not seen or heard from in decades.

"Arlon? Arlon!"

The smooth, polite tone of Arlon's voice filled her head a moment later. "Ah, Lady Phosphora. It is delightful to hear your voice after so long, my dear".

Phosphora could not correct Arlon's use of an honorific as she did with others; it was simply a part of his nature to address others with the utmost politeness.

"Arlon, it has been too long. Tell me where you disappeared off to", she said, smiling.

"My mind was bursting at the seams with terrifying ideas, my dear. Mistress Viridi advised me to spend a little time away from home, so to speak".

"So that golden moon was one of those 'ideas'?"

"The greatest of them", Arlon replied. "I call it the Lunar Sanctum".

"It surprises me that we are in possession of such a tool and have not made use of it before now", Phosphora said.

"In that, our mistress is wise, Lady Phosphora", Arlon said. "I completed construction of the Lunar Sanctum some time ago, and I pledged its use as a weapon to the Goddess. Upon seeing its power, however, Mistress Viridi concluded that it was a tool far too great to unleash upon the world. It would bring great harm even to that which I built it to protect. I am only permitted to send it forth by the Goddess' word in circumstances of dire proportions".

"I assume this qualified then", Phosphora remarked, glancing across at the meditative Goddess.

"Certainly", Arlon replied. "But I have some important information for you, my dear. I have been overlooking the conflict upon Overworld, and a certain location has drawn my curiosity. A dark castle – I believe you have seen it? Humankind fights to keep the Underworld restrained within its vicinity".

"I know of it", Phosphora replied, wishing that she had the reflecting pool before her eyes.

"I have detected remarkable fluctuating energies within its walls, and have made note of an interesting pattern. I have recorded energy spikes that seem to occur in a manner that can be aligned with the appearance of a multitude of Underworld creatures. I have drawn up multiple schematics of the castle and have verified the presence of a portal of sorts".

"Ah, are you trying to tell me that the castle houses…some particular kind of door?" Phosphora asked uncertainly, for Arlon had used words she was sure she had never heard before in her life.

"Precisely, my dear. I believe it is safe to conclude that the castle is serving as a conduit between the Underworld and Overworld. The Goddess Medusa is using it to transport her armies".

"How was she able to get to Skyworld then, or send an army here?"

"I'm afraid that is beyond me at the moment. I can only assume it is a privilege of the master of the Underworld to be able to leave and return to it as they please".

"Hmm", Phosphora mused. "If Medusa is sending her forces through to Overworld by way of this…portal, I assume it can be used to return to the Underworld".

"The logical assumption", Arlon said, "but I have studied the nature of the energy readings produced by the trans-dimensional activity within the castle –"

"The what activity?" Phosphora said.

"Forgive me, my dear. The operation of the portal; it appears to only work in one direction. I have no evidence to show that if she so wished, the Goddess Medusa could return her armies to the Underworld through the use of this particular gateway".

"We need a way through to the Underworld", Phosphora said. "Lady Viridi is in need of Lady Palutena's power, and Medusa is no doubt massing her strength to make another attack on Skyworld".

"In actual fact", Arlon said, "I have detected energy readings emanating from your person that resonate in tune with those of the castle's portal, Lady Phosphora".

Phosphora arched her brow. "What?"

"Do you possess upon you an object of Underworld origin?"

"Of course not", she said. But then she gave pause. "Actually, hold on a moment".

She produced the twin crystal shards then, clutching both between a finger and thumb. Upon the plains, she had spared no time to look at the second which leapt from the God of Death's body when she had killed him. Now though, upon closer inspection it seemed that the shards were of the same whole. Viridi opened her eyes as Phosphora touched the two shards together at their ends and the room was briefly illuminated by a purple glow.

"Let me see that", the Goddess said as Phosphora turned the now whole crystal over in her hands. The markings etched into the two halves now joined to form a complete emblem.

"Mistress Viridi?" Phosphora heard Arlon enquire.

She held it up before her eye for a long moment. "I thought as much".

"What is it?" Phosphora asked aloud.

"I believe it is a key", Viridi replied, addressing them both. "Thanatos was always said to have been gifted with such a thing by the Elders. It allowed him alone of all the pantheon entrance to the Underworld".

"But he only possessed half of it", Phosphora said. "The creature I killed, the Hewdraw, it possessed the other half".

"It seems to be a peculiar action for one to break his own key", Arlon mused.

"I would assume that Medusa broke it", Viridi said. "It displaces the severity of the consequences of her commanders falling in battle".

"Then why not just keep hold of it herself?" Phosphora said.

"Medusa's actions have been strange", Viridi answered quietly. "She has made choices that I would not have expected of her". She looked up at Phosphora. "There are some things we simply cannot answer for ourselves".

The Goddess winced as pain wracked her body when she leaned forward and handed the crystal back to Phosphora.

"I need to settle properly into stasis", Viridi said with a grimace. "The poison is still spreading quickly. Phosphora, Arlon", she said, addressing them telepathically. "I must leave this to you.

"Arlon, you must keep watch over Skyworld in my stead, and I give you permission to use the Lunar Sanctum in aid of Phosphora where necessary. Phosphora, I wish it were otherwise, but I need Palutena's power. Take our forces and go to the castle; I believe that key will enable you to pass through into the Underworld".

"What about Medusa, Lady Viridi?" Phosphora asked carefully.

"I do not know how quickly she is able to replenish her strength…avoid her, if you can. If not, _be careful_, Phosphora", she said meaningfully. "Your priority is to extract Palutena".

Phosphora nodded and spoke aloud. "I understand".

"Good. Both of you…I trust you to do this".

"We shall not fail you, Mistress Viridi", Arlon assured her.

Viridi closed her eyes and exhaled as the petals of the flower began to curl upwards, gradually hiding her from view. Eventually, she was completely enclosed within them. Phosphora turned, and to her surprise found the room empty. When she stepped outside, she found the angels waiting there instead.

"I did not think it proper to intrude", Ivorie explained as Phosphora came over to them. The angel lifted her hands then and presented the nymph with the helm she had cast aside as she rushed to Viridi's side.

"Thank you", Phosphora said as she took it, looking up at the angels. "All of you".

"We fought for our home as much as we fought to protect your Goddess", Ivorie said, inclining her head.

"We now have the means to find yours", Phosphora said, explaining to the angels what she had learnt.

"I will descend with my forces to the castle –"

"We're coming with you", Ivorie declared.

"I need you to stay here and watch over Lady Viridi", Phosphora said slowly, but Ivorie shook her head.

"Forgive me, Phosphora, but you cannot stop us from going to the aid of our own Goddess".

Phosphora arched her bow at that. "Are you even permitted to leave Skyworld? To descend upon the world of Man?"

"I believe this is an extreme circumstance", Ivorie said. Phosphora looked from her to the angels at her back, their expressions resolute.

"Fine", she sighed. "Perhaps I am being selfish; I'm sorry".

Ivorie smiled. "It will be an honour to fight beside you, Lady Phosphora".

"Just Phos…nevermind", the nymph said in exasperation, shaking her head.

"Come on, there is little time to waste", she told them as she donned her helm once more. "We must prepare".

**xXx**

The door was pushed open, aged hinges whining in protest; Pit had already taken his arm from around Palutena's waist, joining the twin daggers together at the tail of their hilts. With a small flash of light, the daggers conjoined into the form of a golden bow, and the dark form that stepped forward into the room started momentarily at the unexpected presence within it. Pit spared a brief moment to check his target. Certain that it was a foe, particularly as he saw the armoured grip upon the shaft of a spear tighten and their stance shift to one that promised violence, Pit launched the arrow through the air.

"I'm sorry, Lady Palutena", Pit said as he lowered the bow and quickly moved over to the Goddess slumped heavily against the wall. She murmured as he helped her to stand, patient and yet impatient with the slow pace with which she had to order her steps.

When they reached the door, propped open by the twisted, fallen form of the prison guard with a golden arrow jutting from its chest, Pit looked down carefully into the gap of its visor. The eyes he had glimpsed glowing red had lost their illumination, and beyond the darkness of the armour's innards, Pit swore he could see the cream of flesh. But there was no time to inspect it any closer; his priority first and foremost was the Goddess.

"Lady Palutena", he said after a moment when they stood exposed in the low light of the corridor. "Where should we go?"

She leaned heavily against him and he felt her chest expand and contract as she breathed. "I'm not sure, Pit".

"Well, we definitely can't stay here", he said, clutching his lip in his teeth. "Let's go this way".

The floor suddenly rumbled, and the tremor more than strong enough to upset Pit's balance. He struggled to hold himself and the Goddess steady. The walls to either side of them seemed to shake, dust spat into the air from age old crevices. Gradually, things began to settle around them once more. Pit turned his head to the other end of the corridor.

"Perhaps we should go this way instead".

"And quickly", Palutena murmured. Pit nodded and together they turned around and began to walk in the opposite direction. But the Goddess soon came to a halt; Pit could feel her trembling against him.

"I can't go any further, Pit", she said slowly.

"Lady Palutena?" Pit said, concern raising the pitch of his voice.

"Find Medusa", she whispered, and then without warning, before Pit could even utter another word, her form began to break apart.

"Lady Palutena!" Pit cried as he staggered forward, the weight he was supporting vanishing as the Goddess became nothing more than sparks of light upon the air.

Green, gold, and the pure white of a star.

Shock and despair reduced his voice to a ragged whisper as he watched the light slowly fade away, leaving him alone and helpless.

_Find Medusa…_

Pit did not spare even a moment for the hot tears he felt welling up at the corners of his eyes. His face twisted into something ugly and violent as he began to run. His heart called for more than justice. It called for vengeance.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **Just to be clear, the 'Gatekeeper' I refer to here is the machine Dark Pit facekicks to victory in the game.

* * *

Magnus roared as his sword swept through the air, the fullness of his strength behind the blow as he cleaved straight through the metal skull of an armoured Skuttler. At his shoulder, another man planted the sole of his boot to the stomach of a fallen Keron and stabbed a spear through its eye. Magnus drew his great sword to the ready as yet another foe skittered forward to face him. Heavy boots served their purpose admirably as Magnus lashed out and slammed a kick straight into the chest of an unarmoured Skuttler. He smirked as the creature parted momentarily from the ground with a pained whine as its ribs were crushed from the impact.

He heard a deeper, mechanical whine from behind him then, and the space around him was briefly illuminated by the hot glow of fire as the artillery let loose another barrage. The ball of flame surged overhead and smashed into the enemy lines, kicking up dirt and flailing forms into the air.

Magnus grabbed the shoulder of the man to his left, pulling him back as the globular missile of a Monoeye aimed to part head from shoulders. A smattering of arrows arced above the battlefield, fired from the lines behind him, but few met their marks.

Sweat poured from his brow as he and the soldiers at his side pressed forward into the gap that had opened up in the enemy lines, flashes of silver heralding their attack as the Underworld sent forth its creatures to meet them. Magnus cursed and ducked his head when a man to his right choked out a scream as Monoeye flew overhead and their missiles lanced through his armour.

"Arrows", someone cried out desperately, his voice swiftly lost in the din of battle.

"Lift your shield man!" Magnus told the soldier beside him, grunting with the effort as he swung his sword through the feeble defence of another Skuttler.

The Monoeye swarmed about them, seeming to have been assigned specifically to take out their little group. Several arrows found their mark, but more of the Monoeyes' projectiles found theirs. Magnus was jolted as a man was struck across the face and whipped around wildly on his feet, slamming into his shoulder. Magnus didn't spare a thought as he grabbed the dead man by a joint of his armour and shielded himself from a Monoeye's missile.

The cry for the archers was raised again, but the arrows that came flew too high and wide. Magnus' eyes darkened and narrowed as the Monoeye numbers above grew and creatures pressed in on their small band from below. Then suddenly, a golden arrow lanced down from on high, running straight through the bulbous orb of the Monoeye and pinning its writhing form to the ground. Before he had begun to look up, several more Monoeyes were cast down, the golden arrows tearing effortlessly through their flesh. An object of white and red suddenly flashed by him quicker than his eyes could properly identify and Magnus felt a rush of wind at his cheek.

The being landed at a run, a wide broadsword and shield in hand as they charged into several oncoming Keron, the blade flashing quickly through the air and splashing the ground with the creatures' life. Magnus' eyes widened as he belatedly recognised the wings at the woman's back, long red hair dancing wildly between her shoulders. Several more angels landed about him, one loosing arrows from a golden bow more quickly than his eyes could process.

The soldiers that remained about him stopped and stared in wonder; only a rough shove from Magnus saved one from a determined Monoeye's missile.

"Back to work men!" Magnus declared as he supressed his own surprise and ran forward.

His sword carved through the body of a Keron in mid-flight as it leapt towards the red-haired angel. He grunted as the blade struck the ground and he turned its momentum into a spinning kick that halted the charge of a Skuttler, its face impacting wetly with his boot. The angel smashed her shield into the body of another Skuttler, with a thrust embedding her sword to the hilt in its chest. Magnus turned his eyes to her and she inclined her head briefly to him.

"An angel, huh", he said. "I hope this isn't a vision of heaven", he quipped, gesturing around them.

Before the angel could reply, a clap of thunder momentarily deafened him and a huge bolt of lightning struck the ground away to his right. Magnus winced at the blinding light that lanced into the corner of his vision, sparing a moment to clap a hand to his ear as the crack of thunder shook the innards of his skull. Another form alighted beside him then, and when Magnus glanced across he smiled.

"Phosphora".

"Magnus, you're remarkably easy to spot on the battlefield", she said with a grin.

"I'll take that as a compliment", he replied. "You're here to help us?"

Phosphora sheathed her arms in electricity as a swarm of Mik swooped through the air and angled themselves towards them. "Indirectly, perhaps".

Another Skuttler took Magnus' boot as Phosphora scorched the air with blasts of electricity, felling a score of Mik in the blink of an eye. An angel soared overhead and his arm moved with incredible speed, firing golden arrows into the midst of the scattered Mik and striking more than he happened to miss.

"I'm here to take the castle", she told him. "It serves as a gate to the Underworld".

The screech of a Syren preceded its swooping charge and Phosphora slammed her forearm to Magnus' chest, knocking him backwards as she sent jagged lightning into the creature's path. The Syren's next screech was one of intense pain as it dropped to the ground and skidded past Phosphora's feet, a gaping hole in its chest.

"Sorry", she said as Magnus winced, clutching a hand to his chest. He waved the apology away as he stood to his full height.

"You shouldn't be wasting time saving my life", he said in between shallow breaths.

Phosphora smirked. "I assume your search for your friend has led you here? Good luck, Magnus", she said when he nodded. She held out her hand and he clasped it briefly, meeting her eyes beneath her silver helm.

"Ivorie", Phosphora called. The angel turned to her and nodded. Phosphora launched herself into the air once more, slicing through an defiant Monoeye as it flew forward to intercept her path.

She flew high above the chaotic battlefield, conserving the strength Viridi had granted unto her. The battle between the Underworld and the human armies raged down below, but it was not her place or duty to aid the latter. The angels who had joined her had expressed their intent the moment they had set eyes upon the battlefield. In Palutena's name, they vowed to protect and help the humans. Phosphora had promised Ivorie that she would call to her; ultimately the Goddess of Light was both of their main concerns.

Flage gathered behind her as she flew towards the castle, the vast dark form standing proud and defiant upon a broken wasteland against the human's attack. Its circular outer wall was high and thick, large spikes jutting out from atop it. But it was not the castle itself that drew Phosphora's attention, though it almost certainly warranted it. Instead, her eyes fell upon a something that she was not sure how to identify, and if she had not known any better, she would have thought it to be Arlon's work.

The Gatekeeper hovered high in the air directly in front of the castle, its mechanical form washed white and patterned with sharp lines of gold. Its body was segmented into three oblong sections, joined at the centre by a small, golden globe lined with an intricate pattern that would seem to manifest the expression of a face. Pink light pulsed strong at the edges of the segmented sections of the strange machine, and Phosphora watched as a thousand needles of light exploded outwards and rained down upon the human forces attempting to press towards the castle.

Arrows soared over the battlefield but merely skittered along the smooth surface of the Gatekeeper. A rolling ball of fire pelted through the sky, launched high by an engine of war. It smashed into a segment of the machine and merely tilted the Gatekeeper aside for a moment before it righted itself and a focused line of light lanced across the battlefield and tore into the culprit.

"Arlon!" Phosphora called. "Whatever that is, deal with it!"

The battlefield seemed to pause and collectively hold its breath as Arlon answered her request. Golden light tore through the clouds above and smashed into the Gatekeeper.

The machine was spun through the air as though the beam of light had been the strike of a fist. Another struck it a moment later, a hammer blow that slammed into the Gatekeeper's lower section. Phosphora smiled as the machine listed in the air, seeming to be moments away from tumbling to the ground, but then her expression froze and then fell.

A loud mechanical drone filled the air as the Gatekeeper's segments first began to glow intensely and then splintered along their lengths, the smaller sections shifting their position rapidly around the central sphere. In the space of several heartbeats, a halo of panels had formed around the Gatekeeper, each pulsing with light as the drone that filled the air loudened exponentially. The Gatekeeper jerked backwards as it fired a huge beam of white light into the heavens above.

"Arlon!" Phosphora cried out as she heard him give a grunt of surprise.

"Nothing to fear, Lady Phosphora", he assured her a few moments later. And indeed, when a rainbow of colour rained down from on high and struck the Gatekeeper, Phosphora kept in check her concern.

"Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating", Arlon cried out as the Gatekeeper altered its form once more, crafting a curved shield over the central sphere as the Lunar Sanctum's barrage continued. Phosphora could not help but arch her brow at Arlon's tone, almost reminding him of the circumstances in which they were in.

The Gatekeeper's shield glowed hot with light and then it suddenly swept back the panels, the fragments of its original three segments moving to swiftly form a sharp cone that hovered in the air, separated momentarily from the central sphere. Arlon seemed to give a shout of delight as the cone began to revolve and a thin, but intense beam of light punched out from the tip.

"I will keep this machine engaged", Arlon told her a moment later. "Make for the castle. Oh, but this is a marvellous creation…"

Phosphora shot forwards, the Flage at her back joined by a number of Blader. As light danced between the Gatekeeper and the Lunar Sanctum, she made a swift circular pass about the castle, her sharp eyes seeking an entrance. The outer wall was completely solid, from what she could tell, and for a moment it baffled her how the Underworld was getting its armies outside the castle. She then saw a single bridge extending from the castle's dark innards sitting beneath the Gatekeeper's form, its length crowded with Underworld forces.

Despite knowing that she would be able to slay them and fight her across the bridge to get into the castle, Phosphora did not want to move into the vicinity of the Gatekeeper. Locked in fierce battle with Arlon's vast creation, the Gatekeeper still managed to find the resources to attack the human forces at irregular intervals, spilling hot light onto the battlefield.

Instead, she led the Forces of Nature at her back around the castle once more, soon spotting dark gaps perched high in the thick walls. The Gatekeeper finally turned its attention upon them as they angled towards the castle, the panels shifting blinding fast around the golden sphere at its centre.

A storm of needles blazed towards them and Phosphora's world was suddenly reduced to all but the gap in the castle walls before her as she spent all her focus on keeping her life intact. She did not need to cast a glance over her shoulder to know that the forces at her back had suffered massive losses. The needle storm cast towards them was thick and blinding.

Narrowly avoiding being torn apart, Phosphora's desperately altered path of flight grazed her body against the frame of the high window as she passed through it. She flipped through the air and spun wildly through a nondescript, low light space before crashing to the floor and sliding to an eventual halt, her armour screeching in protest. Blader and Flage, their numbers significantly lessened, streamed in through the windows in her wake as with a pained groan, she pulled herself to her feet.

They gathered around her and waited as she reached beneath her breastplate and tugged out the Underworld Key, the crystal dangling at the centre of a simple, thin twist of vine she had fashioned before leaving Skyworld. The Key glowed as her fingers brought it out before her eyes; they were close it seemed, but she certainly didn't know her way around the castle.

She lifted her eyes as she heard the shout of a band of Skuttlers, a Mage and a pair of Cannoneers hidden amongst their midst. They charged down the open corridor towards them without a moment's hesitation. Phosphora gripped the Underworld Key tightly in hand as she led the Flage and Blader to meet them.

**xXx**

Ivorie lifted her head as she heard Phosphora's voice within the depths of her mind. The human she had heard Phosphora refer to as Magnus fought at her back, seeming tireless in his efforts as together with the angels, they pushed forwards through the battlefield, joining with other human soldiers and swelling the numbers of their group as they pushed towards the castle.

The battle that played out between the Lunar Sanctum and the Gatekeeper had stunned all of them, even the angels, who had already seen what the Lunar Sanctum was capable of. Eventually, the Gatekeeper had fallen to its greater strength, though Ivorie could not begin to comprehend what had occurred between them. She kept her eyes focused on the enemy ahead of her, her ears sharp as she awaited Phosphora's call.

Now that she had heard it, she turned and alerted the angels that fought with her, her brethren taking almost immediately to the sky. She lingered a moment longer as the humans turned in surprise. She did not think it would do to give the impression that they were abandoning them; she had seen the courage rise to their eyes as they realised that angels fought alongside them. It lifted her heart to hear them shout the name of her Goddess in victory.

"There is a greater battle we angels must fight", she explained, lifting her voice. The din of battle washed over them however, and only those nearest to her were able to catch her words. She tried again, but was interrupted almost immediately by an attack from the rear of the group. Magnus turned to her then.

"Go!" he shouted simply. "This isn't the place for words".

She stared at him for a long moment and he met her eye fearlessly. She nodded, and then lifted herself into the air with strong beats of her wings. Ahead of her, she saw her brethren cut through a swath of Monoeye and she sped herself forward to join with them.

Phosphora directed her flight as they neared the castle, making a circular pass about it until one of them pointed out the features Ivorie had quickly described. They angled themselves and descended towards the dark windows unobstructed, soaring through and alighting upon the cold stone of a poorly light corridor, the brackets that housed torches of flame sparse along the walls. Ivorie led them as they quickly made their way through the castle to meet up with Phosphora once more; she led them with her voice, but she may as well have let the trail of Underworld corpses direct the angels' path.

They came upon the room that contained the castle's portal just as Phosphora and her greatly diminished forces finished off the last of the Underworld's resistance. Ivorie ordered the angels to keep a lookout as she approached Phosphora's side. At the centre of the room stood a tall, vast ring of metal, its surface patterned extensively with curving black lines that seemed to form some sort of symbol. Ivorie looked across to Phosphora and saw that she gripped a purple crystal in her hand.

"What is that?"

"A key", Phosphora said. "The Key to the Underworld".

"A key?" Ivorie stepped close to the giant ring, searching its surface. "I don't see any kind of lock, Phosphora. Are you sure?"

"More of them are coming!" one of her angels warned, causing she and Phosphora to turn briefly.

"Get inside and barricade the doors", the latter instructed as she turned back to the ring. "There has to be a place for this key".

She stepped forwards and the Key suddenly began to pulse with light, a sparkling bulb spinning at its centre as the dark emblem etched into its side began glowing. As the angels struggled to push the large doors shut, another opened; Phosphora and Ivorie stepped backwards quickly as the crystal seemed to pour forth a smoky essence from its depths, the purple trail of dust twisting through the air towards the centre of the ring. The black lines upon the metal flared suddenly with purple light and the space within the ring seemed to ripple, the very air pulsing as though it possessed a heartbeat. A spiralling vortex suddenly roared to life in the empty space of the ring, its surface oddly transparent.

Phosphora didn't pause for a beat, even as surprise took hold of her and tried to root her to the spot. The remaining Flage and Blader plunged into the disk of swirling energy after their commander, leaving the angels to stare incredulously. The doors shaking beneath the onslaught of the creatures on the other side of it brought them to their senses. Ivorie's shout chased the angels into the portal before she leapt in after them.

**xXx**

Medusa strode down the corridor, her pale skin briefly illuminated by the bracketed flames as she passed by them. Gaol trailed in her wake, the tail of its scarlet cloak ruffling in the air as it matched the pace of the Goddess. The failure of the attack upon Skyworld incensed her beyond reason, and she had almost slain Gaol in her rage when it had returned alone to her throne room. However, she was swiftly given another outlet through which she could pour her hot anger.

After the defeat of Hewdraw's forces, the human armies had marched to Gaol's castle, and the Gatekeeper had been set to action. Upon being alerted by it, Medusa had sought to empty her Underworld fortress and flood the battlefield with her army. Now, she and Gaol moved towards yet another barracks where a sizeable number of Reavers would be awaiting her commands. She would send them straight to the portal, there to pass through into Overworld and wreak havoc upon the humans.

She was single-minded, driven by cold hatred and anger as she suffered defeat after defeat. Gaol had not spoken a word since she had pinned it to a wall with her power and threatened to severe its head from its shoulders. She wished that it would dare to make utterance unto her; the need to kill and destroy saturated her being and her skin crawled with frustration. Then suddenly, a tremor hit the fortress.

Medusa heard the scrape of Gaol's armour against the wall as it was thrown off balance, and she threw out her arms in wild fashion to steady herself. The snakes echoed her hiss as she turned her eyes. Something was amiss.

She felt it a moment later; a vast, familiar energy began to spin itself into existence, the very one that bridged the gap between Overworld and the Underworld. Her eyes widened as a cry of denial left her lips.

"Impossible!"

She remembered suddenly; unease had gripped her when she had sent Thanatos forth to take Skyworld. The secret she had known and yet could not call to mind sparked to life before her eyes and she knew her mistake. The God of Death carried with him a Key, one that allowed him alone to step into the Underworld realm. To hear of Thanatos' death had irked her, but had Gaol known of the Key and reported to her that it was taken, she without a doubt would have destroyed the creature in her fury.

Medusa slammed the end of her staff to the ground as the rumbling of the tremor grew quiet, her fingers curling as she thrust her hand into the air. The snake at the head of the staff opened its wide jaws and swallowed the black flames that poured from Medusa's fingertips, darkness washing over its skin. She felt the portal carrying a multitude of forms towards her fortress at great speed, and she quickly corrupted the energies of the bridge between the worlds. They had reached too far and were too close to the Underworld to be killed by the poison she cast into the threads of the portal, but she felt the tunnel fracture, splitting the party that made to infiltrate her fortress.

"Gaol, our enemy is at the gates", she told it. "Find them and destroy them!"

The creature bowed its great head and shot passed her, the clank of its armour audible long after it had vanished from her sight. She turned and strode towards the room that housed the gateway, for she had felt but a single presence escape through the portal at its original destination. The darkness of her anger gathered about her, extinguishing the flames that illuminated the corridors as she walked their length. The skittering of feet reached her hearing then, and she had already begun to turn to look over her shoulder as a voice rang out.

"Medusa!"

The Goddess for a long moment did not believe what her eyes took in. The accursed angel stood at the end of the corridor, daring to look upon her with eyes blazing with the fire of anger.

"How do you live?" Medusa spat, turning fully to face him. "I slew you!"

"Your power is nothing", Pit shouted. "The Goddess of Light will always trump you!"

Medusa's lips curled at the angel's impudence, further still at the mere suggestion that her sister was stronger than her.

"Where is she?" the Goddess snarled. "Does your precious Goddess conceal herself and send a dog to face me instead?"

Pit's face darkened at her words. "She told me to find you, after she sacrificed her life to bring me back. In her name, I promise to destroy you, Medusa".

"Palutena sacrificed herself? For you?" Medusa said as the darkness about her form began to solidify. "Then she is as pathetic and weak as I remember".

Pit roared and surged forwards, his hands gripping the hilts of twin golden daggers. He threw himself through the air at her. Medusa reached up and caught the angel about the throat, turning as the angel choked and slamming him to the wall. He stabbed downwards with the dagger he managed to keep in his grip, plunging the blade through Medusa's forearm. The Goddess snarled and rewarded his actions by pulling him forward and then slamming him doubly hard into the wall.

"I will tear your soul apart and bond its fragments with an eternal pain", she promised him as he struggled against her grip. "And then, I will find Palutena's soul and the two of you will dwell together forever in the depths of an unquenchable fire. I will sever you both from the heavens you so adore. Goodbye, wretched creature!"

The snakes at her head suddenly shrieked and Medusa turned at their warning. An armoured being appeared at the end of the corridor, the arms it lifted sheathed in electricity. Lightning arced between the Goddess and Pit as she released her grip and leapt away from him.

Medusa summoned a wall of black flame as tongues of electricity sought her, blasting through the air and tearing holes into her defences. She was forced to retreat under the blistering assault, her arm sweeping through the air faster and faster as she counteracted the bolts of lightning being cast in her direction.

Pit pressed himself against the wall as closely as possible as the lightning blazed past his eyes, striking down the black walls Medusa threw up against it. The armoured being cycled their arms through the air in a rhythmic pattern and soon the corridor was blazing with electric-blue light and sizzling with power.

Pit felt his heart jump as a jagged lance flashed by merely moments away from the end of his nose, pressing himself so hard to the wall at his back that he was almost surprised that he did not sink straight into it.

Medusa screamed as the lance blasted through her black fires with a _whoomp_ and struck her shoulder. The force behind the projectile took her off her feet and spun her through the air. Her form exploded into black mist as she struck the ground, and a shriek of rage echoed through the corridor as she fled. Pit's golden dagger clattered to the floor in her wake.

His attention was drawn elsewhere a moment later as his armoured saviour was suddenly before him, one hand grabbing his chiton while the other tore off their helm.

"Pit? You're alive?!"

Phosphora stared at him with the same shock he imagined had been on his face when Palutena had granted him his body. He simply nodded, words catching in his throat as he saw Phosphora's eyes water. But then she blinked hard and pulled him away from the wall, returning her helm to her head. He had never seen her in armour before, and she struck a fearsome image that would stick in his mind for a long time to come.

"Come on! We can't let her get away".

Phosphora felt her heart racing as she tore down the corridors in pursuit of Medusa with Pit in tow. Viridi had advised her to avoid Medusa if possible, but upon turning a corner and finding the Goddess perhaps mere moments away from slaying the angel she had never thought to see again, she had drawn to her fingertips the power Viridi had bestowed upon her.

Caught in the moment of battle, she had wasted no energy on thoughts, but in its aftermath, after forcing the Goddess of Darkness to flee, Phosphora marvelled at the strength she had felt within herself. But she had to keep a clear head; the power was not limitless, and that brief contest had given her a crucial piece of information.

Medusa had not been able to replenish herself to the degree that had enabled her to fight with Viridi.

Phosphora did not wish to distract herself with making measurements of strength; she could not know how much power Viridi had invested within her, and it was certainly possible and important to consider that Medusa's retreat could have been an act of deception. But there was a voice within her that urged her to grasp the moment of opportunity with both hands.

She could hear Pit breathing heavily in his effort to keep up, even with her in armour and him without. She glimpsed the black mist as they rounded another corner and this only served to spur her on. Pit was hot on her heels as she saw the dark cloud slip through the crevices of two tall doors.

"Get ready!" she shouted over her shoulder as she charged her arms with electricity.

Her subsequent attack blew the doors apart, the left broken clean off its upper hinges and left hanging precariously off the bulky frame as Phosphora and the angel ran through into the dark room beyond. Medusa stood at its centre, her face lifted to the ceiling as her mouth stretched unnaturally wide.

Phosphora glanced upwards to the ring of light that was seemingly fixed to the ceiling. Only when she began to register an eerie, incessant whisper as light poured in a torrent down towards the waiting Goddess and Pit gave a shout at her back did she realise what it was.

"Souls!" Pit hissed as the sparks of light flooded down into Medusa's throat. "We have to stop her".

Phosphora was already sheathing her arms in electricity as Pit spoke, thrusting her palm forward. The wall of black fire that the Goddess drew before her was thick and Phosphora's lightning skittered along its surface. A foreboding chuckle came from her lips as she swept an arm across her mouth and turned to face them, her laugh becoming a snarl as dark tendrils punched through the ground and lanced towards them.

Pit rolled to the side, reforming the golden bow as he gathered himself to his feet. Golden light gathered to his fingertips as he drew back the tight string of the bow.

Medusa staggered at the unexpected strength of the shot as it struck the shield of fire she had drawn about herself. She recognised in moments the weapon as she turned to glare at the angel, the markings of her sister's craftsmanship all but clear to her eye. She lifted a hand wreathed in flame to punish Pit's daring, but a moment later lightning split the black wall she'd erected and the armoured nymph soared through the air towards her.

Phosphora, sheathed in electricity, grabbed the Goddess' wrist and bent her arm away from Pit. The fire she had intended for him blazed instead against the far wall. The Goddess hissed at Phosphora and the snakes lashed out, their fangs ringing against her helm. Phosphora punched towards Medusa's face, and when the Goddess pulled her head to the side, she bent her arm at the joint and smashed her elbow into Medusa's cheek.

She relished the visceral feel of the impact and Medusa's sharp noise of pain. Upon seeing Pit alive and relatively well, her thirst for vengeance in his name was inexplicably quenched. But then she remembered the being who had struck Viridi with a mortal blow. She knew who had given that order. Medusa had dared to strike out against her Goddess, and she would suffer Phosphora's wrath for it.

The Goddess along with her staff tumbled to the floor and she burst into smoke as Phosphora blasted lightning towards her fallen form. A scream of rage tore through the room as the dark cloud rushed towards Phosphora, who simply leapt backwards and dashed to the side with great speed. Medusa reformed and barely caught another golden arrow in the grip of shadowy tendrils before it struck her, breaking the shaft at the middle and sending torrents of flame swirling through the sparkling cloud that hung momentarily in the air.

Pit rolled away once more, wincing as his shoulder struck the ground at a hard angle. Adrenaline and anger flowed through him and dulled the pain in an instant. He lifted the bow once more and placed his shot as Phosphora stepped into Medusa's reach, striking out with an electrified palm. The Goddess caught her wrist this time, but then cried out as Pit's arrow sliced through the skin of her shoulder. Phosphora took advantage of the moment and twisted her arm from Medusa's grip. She swept a double-fisted blow up into the Goddess' jaw.

Medusa staggered backwards, and the roar of fury that left her lips caused Pit's ears to ring as he watched her storm forwards and slice towards Phosphora with clawed fingers. Phosphora ducked low and Pit fired another shot in the same moment, this time embedding the golden arrowhead into Medusa's shoulder. Phosphora exploded upwards and drove her knee into Medusa's stomach, doubling the Goddess over before delivering a hammer blow to her back.

Lightning smashed into the floor as the Goddess broke apart at the last moment.

The black cloud seemed to writhe furiously before lancing towards Pit, the scream of the Goddess upon the air. Pit's eyes widened as the Goddess reformed in mid-flight, her clawed hands reaching out to claim him. Phosphora appeared in front of him, moving impossibly fast and seeming to shimmer into reality. She punched both fists out towards the Goddess and Pit was forced to cover his eyes as the room was illuminated with blinding light.

His skin tingled uncomfortably as the eddy of Phosphora's powerful lightning singed the air. He heard a solid impact, and peeled his eyes open carefully a few moments later, scars of light fading slowly from the surface of his vision.

Phosphora stood protectively before him, and as he looked beyond her, he saw the form of Medusa pulling herself up unsteadily from the ruin of her stone throne.

"I will not suffer defeat at the hands of a nymph and an angel", the Goddess promised in a dark voice. "I am going to rip you limb from limb and crush your pathetic souls to dust!"

Medusa threw her arms and head back as she gave a shout and opened her mouth once more. The sound of a rushing wind filled the room and Pit despaired as he looked up to see the thick ring of souls circling above pulled inexorably towards the Goddess. The terrified whisper of the countless multitudes scraped unsettlingly against the roar of the wind as the souls were sucked into Medusa's mouth. Phosphora clenched her fist as the harsh choice presented itself to her; Medusa's form was already glowing intensely with power.

Pit yelped as bolts of lightning blasted down around him. He gasped in horror as looked up and saw the fiercest of storms arcing through the torrent of souls high above, shredding them into mere motes of light. He would have grabbed hold of Phosphora's arm were her body not sheathed completely in electricity.

Even as he shouted her name, his eyes turned to Medusa, finding her hissing and enraged as the flow of souls into her mouth dwindled rapidly. Yet still, her form glowed powerfully with light and the flames that rose to her hand huge as she turned stark white eyes towards them.

Phosphora grabbed his arm suddenly and he felt himself pulled into the air as Medusa washed the room in fire. The flames rose high to claim them, black curtains drawn across Medusa's form.

Pit distinctly heard the crack of stone as Phosphora hauled him through the air, manoeuvring them beyond the clutches of the darkness. Both of them glanced at one another as Phosphora landed besides the doors she had blown open when they heard the cascade of great volumes of stone falling. The black flames persisted for a moment longer, licking along the scorched walls.

"I don't have a good feeling about this", Phosphora said slowly as the flames died down and they were granted the view of a huge hole torn into the wall behind the throne. Beyond the first wall, they could see incrementally larger holes torn into others, allowing them ultimately a glimpse outside the fortress itself. Pit turned to Phosphora.

"We should follow", he said. "We need to finish this, now".

Phosphora pursed her lips, the voice of her Goddess echoing in her mind. "I'm not sure", she said. "I was sent here with a different priority".

She turned and looked down at Pit. "Where is the Goddess of Light?"

"She…She's gone", he managed, turning his eyes away.

"Gone?" Phosphora repeated blankly.

Pit lifted a hand before his face and clenched his fist. "Medusa tortured her until she had no strength left to give. She sacrificed herself to give me another chance". He lifted his eyes to meet Phosphora's. "I will avenge Lady Palutena".

Phosphora's next words were swallowed by the bellow of a rush of wind. A force beyond either of them suddenly reached into the scorched throne room and pulled them forwards. They flailed wildly as they were drawn at dizzying speed through the holes in the walls, finally cast out of the fortress unceremoniously, tumbling over themselves as they hit the ground. Pit groaned beside her as Phosphora winced, searching half-blindly for her fallen helm as she closed her eye against the sting of pain that sliced across her skin.

An almighty quake shook the ground beneath them, catching their attention immediately and making them forget their pains as they turned and looked up.

"Pit?" Phosphora said uncertainly.

The angel found his feet first, extending a hand to help Phosphora up to hers, though he did not look at her. He had eyes only for the being before him, and its huge, bulbous eye was trained upon them. Globs of saliva fell to the ground from on high as a rattling hiss escaped Medusa's parted maw, sharp, tall teeth glinting dangerously. The ground rumbled as she spoke, her voice shaking the heavens and vibrating through their bodies. She lifted a foot, casting its shadow upon them.

"Farewell, wretched creatures".


	13. Chapter 13

Locked in fierce combat with the armoured creature who had sought to slay the Goddess Viridi, Ivorie could barely spare a glance upwards as thick, dark clouds were drawn across the Underworld's blazing orange sky. Gaol battered her shield with a gauntlet sheathed in sizzling energy, turning away as she thrust her sword towards a joint of armour. At her back, the surviving angels fought with the fiery twin-headed dog, Twinbellows.

They had been separated during their transit through the portal; she had seen the undulating walls of the strange tunnel affected by an invisible power and the stability of the bridge between worlds compromised. Phosphora had vanished from view and the Flage and Blader trailing her wake were crushed as the portal contorted around her and the angels, eventually spitting them out into a world they did not know.

The bloodthirsty baying of a terrible beast had reached their ears before the fullness of their faculties returned to them and Twinbellows had leapt upon the dazed angels, crushing two underfoot while another writhed within a torrent of fire that poured from its mouth. Gaol too had caught them unawares when it had joined the fight, laying claim to an angel's life before Ivorie sprang forward to engage it. The courtyard was hot and stank with the sulphuric breath of the vicious twin-headed dog as it blasted flames into the air to destroy the pestilent angels that soared overhead, firing down golden arrows into its body.

Ivorie gritted her teeth as she rained down blows upon the raised forearm of Gaol, the force of each impact surging up her arm through the hilt of the broadsword. The creature seemed to stagger underneath a particularly ferocious blow, one accompanied by the passionate shout of the angel.

Ivorie raised her shield and pressed forwards as Gaol retreated several steps, a green aura swirling at the palm of its left hand as it thrust its arm forward. Ivorie rocked backwards under the force of the projectile loosed towards her, but managed to hold her ground. Her shoulders ached fiercely as she hefted her shield and blade and charged Gaol down.

She heard a roar at her back as Gaol gave ground before her onslaught, followed by the ground beneath her feet trembling as the ferocious Twinbellows finally succumbed to the efforts of the exhausted angels, its fiery fur peppered with the golden shafts of arrows.

A few moments later, Ivorie saw an arrow glance off the side of Gaol's helm, enough force behind it to unbalance the creature for a split second. She pressed her attack and drove Gaol to its knee under the barrage of her sword, its thick forearms raised to preserve its life. The raw shout bubbled up from the depths of Ivorie's stomach as she punched her shield forward and smashed Goal off its feet, knocking it flat to the ground.

Even as she stepped backwards, she briefly saw before her mind's eye the image of her standing over Gaol, her foot pressed to its chest as she ran her sword through its throat. She shook her head clear of it, however; she recognised the creature and she remembered the dark expression upon Phosphora's face when it had launched its black arrow into the Goddess Viridi's stomach. She remembered the fury with which she had fought as she chased after the God of Death who hid Gaol within its shadow. She would not take the rightful vengeance of another into her own hands.

The angels gathered around her as the sky above grew darker still; she commanded a number of them to bind and restrain Gaol. Bows were dismantled and the tight, stiff strings fashioned into suitable bonds about Gaol's wrists with a bit of arm work.

"We need to regroup with Phosphora and find the Goddess", an angel at her shoulder said.

"Didn't you see what happened to her forces?" another said, shaking her head. "She likely met the same fate".

Ivorie frowned as she heard a distinctive rumble from within the fortress that stood before them. "I don't think so", she said after a moment, watching the angels pull Gaol onto unsteady feet. It seemed to look about itself groggily, and Ivorie directed two angels to stand a distance behind it, ready to attack if and when necessary.

"At any rate", she began, "we need to –"

Some great force shook the ground beneath them with far more strength than Twinbellows' eventual fall had done. Ivorie rocked and threw out her arms to steady herself; she knew not whether it was a trick of the eye or otherwise, but the fortress seemed to waver before her sight. She swallowed before she spoke.

"I don't know what's happening, but we need to hurry and find Lady Palutena".

**xXx**

Phosphora took hold of Pit's arm and leapt backwards pulling him along with her as Medusa's foot slammed down to the ground.

"I guess we have no choice", she said as they scrambled to their feet. "Come on!"

"Wait! Phosphora, I can't fly, remember?"

High above, Medusa's eye flashed and something sliced into the ground at their heels. Phosphora looked across at him as the outline of her form glowed with power.

"Tch. Forgot about that. Here", she said, throwing at her arm.

Pit took her hand without thinking and a moment later suddenly felt wings unfurling at his back as he ran alongside her. Power surged through his body and he threw a wild look over his shoulder in surprise, seeing his small, incapable wings lengthened by an electric blue aura.

"How did you –?!"

"Long story", Phosphora shouted back at him as several focused beams of light raked the ground. "No time. Come on!"

Pit leapt into the air after Phosphora as the ground exploded beneath their feet; despite everything, a part of him found the time to relish the feel of the wind rushing by his face as he rose high into the air. He lifted an eyebrow, however, when Phosphora, after somehow being able to grant him the Power of Flight, did not alter his course but allowed him to fly redundantly straight ahead as she curved towards Medusa.

"Pit", her voice echoed in his mind, "your flight is only going to last for roughly a minute. Maybe for two. I'm sorry".

"Lady Palutena's lasted for at least five", Pit whined despite himself.

"I just gave you the ability to direct your own flight!" she returned, her voice projected into his mind. "Lady Palutena doesn't do that; it expends energy must faster".

Pit's eyes widened at this, and then stretched further still when he flapped his wings and banked towards the Medusa.

"I'm ready, Phosphora", Pit declared as he narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip around his bow.

"Then let's do this. For Lady Palutena".

Pit swallowed and nodded, willing himself forward. Ahead of him, Phosphora's form suddenly exploded with brilliant light as she drew on the well of power instilled within her. Pit watched as she lanced directly into the Goddess – except for the fact that she vanished just before Phosphora struck.

Her colossal shape, as tall as the highest peak of the fortress behind them, reappeared some distance away in the space of a heartbeat. It astonished Pit to see that she still retained such ability, despite her form.

"Aim for the eye?" Phosphora queried him a moment later.

Lightning tore through the air before he even had the chance to respond. Medusa's snakes curved downwards and obstructed the bolt of lightning with their bodies, a pair of them shrieking as they were blasted into oblivion as a result. Pit darted forwards and placed his shot, the streak of gold lancing through the air. One of the snakes opened its jaws wide and swallowed the arrow whole, hissing at him as he shot passed.

The curtain of snakes parted to allow Medusa's glowing eye to fire a potent beam of light across the sky, tracking Phosphora's path of flight. She ducked low beneath it, soaring around to the Goddess' back and casting forth a storm of electricity upon her shoulders. Medusa gave a guttural shriek of pain and her upper body twisted as she swept a clawed hand through the air.

Phosphora narrowly avoided being swatted from the sky like a mere insect, slipping between a gap in the Goddess' fingers and heading straight for her eye. Medusa vanished yet again, though Pit fired a powerful shot from his bow as she reappeared, cursing in frustration as another snake consumed the arrow.

"Come on, Pit. You don't have much time, and I need your help!"

"I know!" he shouted back at her from the depths of his mind.

Medusa lifted her right hand, facing her palm outwards. Pit recoiled at the toothy maw embedded in her flesh. It opened and belched darkness into the air, forcing Phosphora to swiftly alter her trajectory. Pit dashed forwards again, his next two shots bolstered by the momentum behind his wings. A snake swallowed the first harmlessly, but the head of the second exploded in a shower of gore. Phosphora curved through the air and cast a lance of electricity straight through the gap Pit made in the serpentine curtain.

Medusa roared in pain and staggered backwards, lifting a hand to her hideous face to hide her eye. Phosphora blasted her with lightning, calling to the heavens and splitting the clouds with a jagged white tongue. The single orange snake uncoiled its length and opened its jaws, spitting a cloud of darkness over Medusa's head. The bolt of lightning smashed into and was swallowed whole by the cloud, and by the time Pit had readied another arrow, Medusa had relocated herself.

She reappeared with a barrage of fire from her eye, purple beams of energy violently tearing across the sky. Pit yelped as he was almost vaporised on the spot; his body cried out in protest as he pulled it through a series of quick, tight turns and loops. At the corner of his vision he saw the Goddess slash through the air, dark fire peeling from her fingertips. Phosphora slammed straight into the black wall.

Medusa snarled as she reeled back on her feet from the force of the collision of their energies, the ground rumbling. Phosphora recoiled through the air from the blow, but Pit saw her body only glow more brightly a second later as she righted herself and shot forwards.

Lightning preceded her charge as she made straight for the Goddess' eye. Medusa vanished each time the skies lit up overhead, narrowly avoiding each bolt of lightning and throwing up walls of fire to impede Phosphora. Pit soared forward to aid her attack just as Medusa reappeared right in his path. Her eye glowed ominously and the snakes lashed out to grab him in their fangs.

"Pit!" the Goddess hissed venomously.

He only narrowly avoided the beam of light that tore from her eye, feeling pain surge down the side of his body as he scrambled to pull himself out of the way. Her hand swiped through the air to claim him and Pit spun wildly as the tip of a nail merely clipped him. He cried out as he slammed into the ground, smothering a shimmering wing beneath his body as he skidded to a halt.

"Pit – move!" Phosphora warned as the Goddess lifted her foot to crush him.

Pit scrambled to his feet as the shadow loomed over him, kicking himself desperately skyward out from underneath it. He yelped as Medusa chased him down, singeing his flesh with consecutive beams of light that blazed ever closer to their target. Pit shot a look over his shoulder and saw Phosphora try to take the Goddess' attention upon herself, making direct attacks upon her eye. The snakes sprang forward and forced her into retreat, snapping through the air at her heels.

Pit could feel his wings weakening, the Power of Flight bestowed upon him steadily fading. The left side of his body stung with pain from his fall and he realised that he was beginning to list in the air.

"Damn it!" he cursed as he flew with all the haste he could muster.

Medusa's fortress loomed ahead of him and all he could think of was to get to it before his wings began to burn at his back. His landing upon one of the fortress' high towers would better have been described as a poorly controlled crash.

His wings lost their aura just before he reached it and Pit cried out as he tumbled through the air and grazed the pointed parapets that crowned the tower. He rolled as he hit the ground, his back slamming hard into the stone.

Pit groaned aloud as pain knifed through his left leg, looking down to find his ankle swollen and an angry-red. He dared to put weight upon it and hissed as he immediately regretted it. Pulling himself towards the wall facing the wasteland beyond the fortress, Pit watched on helplessly as Phosphora fought fiercely with the Goddess.

Both of them split the sky with their power, Medusa fracturing the ground beneath her as she escaped Phosphora's attacks time and again. He ducked low as Medusa seemed to turn towards him, despite the distance that separated them. Purple light lanced into the fortress walls not too far away. Nevertheless, Pit threw his hands over his head and pressed himself behind the parapets.

"Pit. Pit!" Phosphora's voice cried in his mind. "Where are you?"

He lifted his head again to see her make a pass before the Goddess' face, the snakes' snapping bites through the air narrowly missing her as lightning arced towards the eye they sought to protect.

He began to answer. "I'm –"

A massive, overbearing pressure suddenly descended upon the angel, physically and mentally crushing him to the floor. Pit's eyes watered and the world blurred into a featureless haze as the pressure built in his skull and he felt his head approach the brink of splitting wide open. His mouth opened and closed silently as his body convulsed, his limbs twitching as his eyes bulged and quivered in their sockets.

"_…Pit…_"

He barely heard the voice scraping against the innards of his skull, the pressure building in his ears and deafening him with a silent buzz.

"Pit!"

"Lady…Palu…tena?" Pit gasped.

"Forgive me, Pit", the voice of the Goddess he had thought extinguished from existence said to him. "I need you to guide me this time".

He struggled to push out the words. "How?"

"Look to Medusa. Just keep your eyes fixed on her".

Pit tried to nod, but the pressure nestled at the centre of his skull made his head too heavy to move. He lifted a hand to grasp the parapets, but his fingers slipped weakly from the stone as he tried to hold on to it.

"I can't", he whispered, his throat tight. "Lady Palutena…I can't stand".

"You must guide me", she told him. "I need you, Pit, now more than ever".

Pit fought harder than he had in all his days at that very moment. Struggling against the mighty pressure of the Goddess' very presence upon him – fighting quite literally for his life lest her power destroy him, Pit hauled himself up against the wall with a ragged cry.

"Yes! That's it, Pit. You can do it!"

He drew strength from her words and the sincerity of her tone even as her presence threatened to crush him back to his knees. He opened his eyes and let his eyes fall upon the warring Goddess afar off.

He felt the Palutena's presence sharpen then, intensifying with each moment that he kept his eye upon Medusa. His gaze strayed as the pressure at his skull grew and he groaned as he clung to the parapet with all his strength.

"Just a little more, Pit".

"Hurry", he gasped as Medusa's form vanished yet again, Phosphora doggedly chasing after her.

He fixed his eyes upon the Goddess once more and saw light falling slowly down from the heavens at her back. Green, gold, and the pure white of a star.

Medusa remained unaware as she swept black flames through the air and forced Phosphora to fall back. And then, all of a sudden, Palutena's presence departed from him. He heard her murmur as she left him; her voice was full of sadness

_"…Thank you, Pit…"_

There came at that moment a flash of light that illuminated the wasteland for miles in every direction; Pit threw his hand across his eyes and winced, at the same time hearing the distinct sound of metal punching into soft flesh. When he lifted his hand away, Pit stared across the wasteland.

Medusa was frozen in the act of lifting a clawed hand to swipe Phosphora from the sky. The snakes atop her head were caught in a moment of time, and her lips were parted in shock as her eyes bulged in their sockets.

At her back, Pit saw long green hair lifted by an ethereal wind and fanning out to either side of her. An arm clothed in a golden vambrace moved around Medusa's waist, seeming to hold her tenderly. And then her body jerked forwards as the tip of a golden blade pierced through the front of her chest.

"Palu…tena", Medusa choked out as the cold blade split her in two.

_Mercy and compassion is why your beloved angel is dead, Palutena. You should have slain me…_

_That is a mistake I will not repeat…_

_"_I kept this promise, sister", Palutena said quietly.

Medusa's form slowly began to disintegrate, charred ashes rising to be swallowed by the clouds above. "I hate you", she whispered in death.

Pit looked on as his Goddess lifted her gaze to the sky, the great golden blade held limply in her grip at her side. Her lips moved, but he could not make out or hear what she had said. She closed her eyes then, turning away as her form broke up into a thousand sparks of light.

**xXx**

They made for a strange image as they stepped through the hole into the throne room; Palutena was supported by Pit, who in turn was supported by Phosphora as he dragged his left leg underneath him. It had certainly made for slow progress back into the fortress.

Phosphora had informed the limping angel and his Goddess of the fact that she had been separated from Ivorie and a number of other angels, suggesting that she would leave them at the throne room to go in search of them. She had used up the entirety of the power bestowed to her by Viridi in her battle with Medusa, as well as granting Pit the Power of Flight, and thus lost the ability to communicate telepathically.

Palutena had of course offered to do the honours. She was exhausted beyond measure and it was all she could to stand on her feet. She had been spared the need to call out to her angels however when they finally reached the throne room and found the group of angels passing through its broken doors at the same moment.

"My Lady!" Ivorie cried out, and then a moment later with disbelieving incredulity, "Pit?!"

Phosphora smiled as the red-haired angel rushed forwards and ducked her head beneath Palutena's arm. The other angels stepped into the room, smiles of joy cracking weary, worn expressions as their eyes fell upon their Goddess and the angel all had thought to be dead. It was smiles, exhalations of relief and overjoyed embraces for all. All except Phosphora.

The nymph's visage darkened and her lips curled as the face she had committed to memory came before her sight. The angels around Gaol were swept aside in a storm of rage as Phosphora closed the distance between herself and the creature in the blink of an eye.

The bulky weight of its armour meant nothing as Phosphora slammed a hand beneath is thick gorget and lifted it bodily into the air with a shout of rage. Stunned silence fell upon the room until Gaol was flung into a scorched wall, the curved spikes that decorated its pauldrons shattering with the impact. Phosphora was standing in front of it in the next instant as it slid weakly to floor. She grabbed hold of its long, crimson tipped horn at the side of its helm and roared as she slammed her foot into its chest plate.

The chestplate crumpled and buckled under the force of repeated strikes, and after the sixth kick, the horn was torn off the side its helm with a screeching wrench.

"You dared to set your hand against the Goddess Viridi", Phosphora said, reaching forward and sinking her fingers into the holes of the helm's visor. She tore it away.

"You dared –"

Phosphora stopped short as long brown hair fell haphazardly around the creature's face.

"You're a human", she breathed, stepping back as the woman beneath the suit of armour weakly lifted her head and looked at her with unfocused green eyes. "You're a _human!_"

The woman choked and spluttered as Phosphora's gauntlet found the flesh of her throat. Hands wrapped in black metal rose and tugged in a futile effort at her arm.

"I will kill you", Phosphora said through bared teeth, electricity arcing along the length of her arm. "You, a _human_, dared to lift your hand against my Goddess!"

The woman's eyes bulged and she could only squeeze an unintelligible whisper from her lips as Phosphora snarled viciously and sent lightning racing up to her fingertips –

"No!"

Ivorie appeared at her side and grabbed hold of her wrist. Phosphora turned her eyes to her and she balked at fiery rage in them. But she knew that she did not mean her anger for her, and she steeled herself even as electricity brushed against her fingertips.

"Phosphora, she is a human who was under the influence of Medusa's spell. She can't be blamed for her actions!"

Phosphora narrowed her eyes at the angel. "That changes nothing", she spat.

"It changes everything!" Ivorie said. "Phosphora, please. Lady Viridi still lives! To kill this human now would not be vengeance, it would be murder".

"In the eyes of Lady Viridi, it would be justice", Phosphora said coldly over the spluttering of the woman.

"Please", Ivorie said earnestly. "Phosphora, you are not the Goddess Viridi. Your thoughts are different. Spare this human, I beg you".

Phosphora turned from her and looked upon the woman dying in her grasp. Viridi despised the humans beyond description; Arlon too had expressed distaste for humankind. Phosphora had waged the Goddess' war against them without hesitation, but she did not hate them.

As a nymph, she had descended to the world of Man and fed her curiosity by observing them. She knew them in ways Viridi did not, she understood them in ways Viridi would never.

The woman collapsed to the ground as Phosphora's fingers loosened about her throat. As she fell, the thick armour about her began to fall away, clattering to the ground as the dark bonds Medusa had clasped tight around her failed. Phosphora turned away, but then something at the corner of her eye caught her attention.

As the woman coughed violently, Phosphora saw the pattern inked upon the flesh of her right shoulder, red and black. Her eyes widened.

**xXx**

"What on earth happened here?"

Pit and Palutena looked up at the broken form of the Temple, its eastern side littered with the rubble of walls that had once stood strong and proud.

"This is the result of the battle between Medusa and Lady Viridi", Ivorie reminded Pit.

"I know, I know", he said, shaking his head. "You've told me, but…seeing it is something else".

Phosphora watched as Palutena raised her eyes to the Temple in silence, an unreadable expression in her gaze.

"We can rebuild it", the Goddess said eventually. "I would rather look upon this small blemish than the destruction of Skyworld in its entirety".

"I suppose", Pit murmured.

They had ascended to Skyworld shortly after leaving Medusa's Underworld fortress and returning to Overworld by way of the portal. Palutena in particular had marvelled at the object and the means through which it allowed them to travel. Before they had disembarked she had taken a careful look at the Underworld Key Phosphora still had in her possession. However, to their dismay, once they stepped beyond the portal into Overworld the Key simply disintegrated in Phosphora's grasp. Once again, the Underworld was closed to them.

Reaching deep for her power, Palutena had transported them directly to Skyworld, but not before Phosphora had led the woman she had almost killed out onto the land beyond the castle, Ivorie accompanying her. They found the battlefield emptied completely of the Underworld's presence, its creatures simply vanishing at a time that could be aligned with the moment Medusa's ashes had risen to be swept to the far corners of the Underworld.

The humans gathered around them the moment they spotted their presence. Ivorie especially garnered the focus of their attention as from her presence they deduced the involvement and aid of the Goddess of Light in winning the war and thwarting the Underworld's design. Palutena's name was lifted to the skies in shouts of thanksgiving that swept across the torn lands, humankind united in victory.

Phosphora sought him amongst the throng, keeping the woman close to her side. She had taken up the crimson cloak that had graced the black armour and wrapped her naked, bruised and shivering form in it, unable to meet her eyes or speak a word to her. When she had eventually found Magnus and the man's eyes brightened like a star as they fell upon the cloaked woman, she looked away from their joyous reunion as unease warmed her face.

_"I can't thank you enough, Phosphora", Magnus said, a broad grin across his face as he held the woman to his side._

_"Don't thank me", she said. "I…"_

_"There's no shame in accepting the thanks you deserve", he told her._

_She smiled humourlessly. "Perhaps. Farewell, Magnus"._

"Well, we shouldn't delay any longer if Viridi needs my help", Palutena said, interrupting Phosphora's reminiscence. She nodded and led the way into the Temple.

**xXx**

When she and the Goddess had stepped into the room and found the burgundy flower head sitting closed at its centre, Phosphora had wondered how they were going to alert Viridi that help was at hand. The Goddess had put herself into a state where she could not communicate verbally or telepathically, so far as Phosphora was aware. However, Palutena approached the flower while Phosphora stood nearby uncertainly, resting the palm of her hand upon its surface. The flower grew transparent for the briefest moment as its form pulsed with white light and Phosphora glimpsed the form of her Goddess within it, small and peaceful.

The petals unfolded after a brief pause, whatever means Palutena had used causing the Goddess within to awake from her self-induced stasis. Viridi exhaled as the petals fell quietly to the carpet of grass that covered the entire room, her eyes opening.

"Palutena", she said in the tone of a statement. "Well then, I assume that Medusa and her Underworld minions are defeated and all is right with the world once more".

"It would seem so", Palutena replied in an even tone. "Shall I?"

The Goddess knelt upon the grass and touched her hand lightly to Viridi's darkened flesh at her stomach. Closing her eyes, light pulsed gently at Palutena's fingertips and Phosphora watched as the darkness within the arrow wound was drawn from it, pulled from Viridi's body and banished into nothingness by the Goddess of Light.

When the poison was drawn fully from her, the arrow wound began to close up, Viridi's flesh sealing itself and bearing no mark that would suggest she had been injured.

Viridi stood to her feet and stepped out of the flower. "My thanks, Palutena".

Palutena merely nodded as she rose to her own feet. "I thank you for defending Skyworld in my stead, as well as humankind".

"As was agreed", Viridi said as she made a gesture and the flower and the lush bed of grass sunk into the stone floor, ceasing to be. "You have had your boon of me, Palutena".

Palutena gave a small, tentative smile. "Healing your wound does not grant me another?"

Viridi's expression and tone remained polite. "Careful, now".

"I merely jest, Viridi", the Goddess said. "I do hope we can remain on reasonable terms, after today".

"My feelings have not changed", Viridi said. "I will make you no promises I cannot keep".

Palutena sighed. "I will do as I can to guide the steps of humankind, but please, Viridi. I do not wish to go to war with you".

"Then guide them", Viridi said plainly. "Come, Phosphora".

Having remained tense throughout the exchange, Phosphora was glad to incline her head respectfully to the Goddess of Light and follow in Viridi's wake as she left the room. Ivorie and a number of angels that formed Palutena's royal guard stood outside the room awaiting their Goddess. Phosphora nodded her head to them as she passed by, returning Ivorie's warm smile.

Pit waited alone in the Temple's entrance hall. He grinned broadly at her as they turned the corner.

As they approached Pit, the brief and tense exchange between Viridi and Palutena reminded Phosphora of something that she had been most afraid of since she had befriended the angel. She had never voiced it to him, and sometimes she wondered if he thought of it too. She feared that one day, his Goddess and hers would go to war. Their war would force her and Pit to meet upon the battlefield.

"Lady Viridi, may I?" Phosphora asked, chasing the dark thoughts from her mind.

The Goddess rolled her eyes. "Fine. But I'm not waiting for you. I've been away from the Forest for too long. Poor Cragalanche is probably wondering if we've abandoned him".

Phosphora smirked and bid Viridi farewell. When she walked over to Pit, the angel wide grin seemed to falter at the look in her eyes.

He lifted his hand and gave a tentative wave as she drew close. "Uh, hey Phosphora".

She pulled him into her arms and crushed him to her chest, laughing at the gasp of surprise she squeezed from his lips.

"Damn it, Pit", she said softly as her eyes grew moist, "I missed you".

She wished that she were not still in her armour as his arms slid around her, but the warmth of his skin pressed against her cheek was enough of a reassurance. He was alive and well, and with her once more.

**xXx**

Hades tapped his fingers together as he gazed unblinkingly at the dark space directly before him. He was waiting.

Through the waters of the bowl at his side he had watched his grand design unfold. It had been an entertaining pursuit, and while certain events had arisen outside of the boundaries of his plan, all the pieces had eventually come together as expected. He was pleased, and now, he waited. He was a patient God, and he had learnt long ago that patience was indeed always rewarded.

He had no true sense of time here in the pocket of reality he had made for himself, but eventually, a split began to form in its wall, its delicate skin pulled apart by an invisible hand and light filtering into the darkness in which he had patiently dwelt.

Evidently, the Balance was restored.

Hades rose from his seat and stepped beyond the darkness of the bubble into the familiar surroundings of his realm. The light of a thousand streams stitched across the sky above drew his hungry eye and the scent of fear reached his nostrils, the incessant whisper of the terrified souls a symphony to his ears. There was one in particular who drew his attention; its song was one of an interesting concoction of anger, hatred and confusion. He summoned it unto himself.

The bright star of the soul hung in the air before him, an ironic image considering who it belonged to. Her voice was but a murmur, and her constant seething curved his mouth into a grin.

"Medusa, my dear, how do you fare?"

"Who speaks?" her voice snapped from the depths of the light. "Where am I?"

"You dwell once more in the Underworld", Hades said. "Though now its true master is returned to it."

"_I_ am its Queen –"

"You were nothing more than a _tenant_, my dear. I am its rightful Lord", Hades smirked. "Allow me to introduce myself".

Medusa's voice hissed at him when he spoke his name.

"Now, now, my dear; there is no need for you to fret any longer", Hades cooed. "Your work here is finished. You provided me with delightful entertainment".

"What foolishness do you speak?" she demanded. "I am not your _jester_".

"No", Hades agreed, "but neither are you the Goddess of Darkness in truth".

Hades' smirk widened as a long silence stretched between them, and then Medusa's voice spoke once more. "What?"

"My dear, you are but a delicate concoction of a myriad of souls, bitter memories and the most intense thirst for revenge I have known in aeons. However, I could not have the true Medusa stalking about now, could I? You would have most certainly destroyed Overworld completely. It's not time for that quite yet, and to raise you in truth would have emptied my precious City!"

"Insolent fool!" Medusa's voice screeched. "I will destroy you, Hades. I will –!"

But the Underworld's Lord had tired of her; her meaningless promise was but precious time he could not afford to waste. He took the bright star into his grip as the voice of the Goddess screamed at him and crushed it effortlessly to Light-dust. Nonchalantly, he drew souls unto himself, the merest thought causing the realm to rush to obey the will of its true master.

A soul stream diverted from on high, curving a path towards him. He dipped a hand into its sparkling depths, drawing forth a smattering of souls and lifting his hand into the air, sprinkled them into the nebula of light before him. It was a few moments before the concoction set to work; a purple gem shimmered between Hades' fingers as a familiar being came to be once more.

"Thanatos, I do believe this belongs to you", Hades said smoothly.

The God of Death took the proffered Underworld Key with a respectful inclination of the head. "My sincerest gratitude, Lord Hades. I confess that I feared greatly when you split the Key…"

"Ah, you did not trust me, Thanatos?" Hades said. "You wound me".

"No, no. Not so, my Lord!" Thanatos said quickly. "It is just that I have grown rather fond of my privilege over the years".

"Of course you have", the God of the Underworld said, folding his arms behind his back. "However, one cannot establish a plan without taking into account the manner of timing. It would not have pleased me to have the Goddess of Nature destroy you before the allotted time and take your Key".

Thanatos looked away uneasily. "Well…'twas not the Goddess…"

"Oh, I know", Hades said with a smile. "You were never made to fight, Thanatos. She most certainly is. Take no shame in your defeat, brutal though it may have been".

He took a leisurely look around himself at his realm before humming contentedly and walking forwards into the City of Souls.

* * *

**A/N: Lo and behold, the end! Well, I hope you've enjoyed the journey, I certainly had fun writing it. I know it's far from perfect, but I hope I've done justice to all the characters. Anyhoo, to quote our dear Hades, I bid you all adieu :)**


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